Terrified, but intrigued

I've been thinking about whether or not to post about personal topics. On one hand this is a journal of sorts; I go back and look at my old posts to remember and laugh. On the other hand, sometimes one can share too much with the world.

But seeing as how I have about five people that actually read this, I have decided to go for it. Beware that it is going to be completely honest and perhaps a bit uncomfortable.

But if you're anything like me, you will continue reading, now a bit more excited than you started.

We are such creepers.

...

Joseph lost his job. The dream job of working with a start-up company turned into a nightmare. If they hadn't fired him he would have quit. I won't go into the details since I don't really want a slander (libel? I can never keep them straight) lawsuit, but let's just say it was not a pleasant work environment.

Bummer.

The good news is that we can live on what I make. I am so thankful that we bought much less house than we qualified for. We do not have a car payment. We don't pay for TV. That being said, I feel like I make a decent amount, and after going through our budget, I don't know how people who make less than I do can live. And we don't have children. How do they pay for diapers? How do they go on vacation? Just paying for the house, auto insurance, life insurance, 401k, electricity, water, cell phones, Joseph's student loans, and all the other bills, we are barely saving $200/month. Compared to how much we were saving before, it sucks. But still I am thankful, that we are saving even that much. That we have an emergency fund built up, that we have a nice savings cushion.

I do get house envy. We just went to a birthday party and the house we went to has five bedrooms, a beautiful kitchen, a salt water pool, more closet space than I would ever need. But then I remember that I need to count my blessings. That I am very lucky to own my own home. That we have gone to a lot of trouble to paint it, switch out light fixtures, and make it ours. That J has a huge backyard for his garden and his never-ending trees. I am very blessed and I just need to remember it. Happiness doesn't come from things.

So what is J doing? He has started his own business. He is a freelance web designer. He currently has two clients. It has been awesome having him home. At first I could tell he felt a little ashamed about having lost his job. When I came home from work the house was clean, dinner was in preparation, he was eager to show me all he had accomplished throughout the day. I felt bad that he felt those negative feelings, but glad that he was being productive.

If I had come home and found out that he had played video games all day, we would have problems.

I can't wait until his business really gets off the ground. He can do anything he sets his mind to. I can't believe his former company chose to let such a talented individual go. But I won't go there.

Instead, let's talk about babies. J blames HP and her "trapper baby," the baby that is adorable and well behaved and makes the little mothering craving stir up in your chest.

But I blame J. One night I finished reading my book and turned to look at him before turning off my bedside lamp, and I couldn't stop staring at him sleeping. He is my sweetie pie. At times throughout the day, he will look at me and just smile, his eyes crinkling up, his dimple becoming more prominent as his grin stretches, and he looks at me like I am the most precious thing in the world. And I think to myself, I would love to have this man's son.

Oh yes, my mother is going to kill me. I do not want a little girl, I want a little J.

But then the fear grabs hold of my throat. Once you become a mother, you do not ever go back. It is a decision that is permanent. What if I get a terror of a child? My parents have told me enough stories about what a little brat I was. What if my little child gets sick? What if he is bullied in school? What if he has a learning disability? What if he's the cool kid and picks on the other children?

I told J that we will never have a child if we keep over-analyzing it. We need to try to have an oops baby. Yes, trying to have an oops baby is very counter-intuitive. It's my blog and my rules, so if you don't like it go cyber stalk someone else.

I change my mind daily. Hourly. By the minute. Nope, not going to have a child. The J looks over and gives me that heart-breaker smile and it melts my heart. I would love to cuddle a child with that same dimple. But then I am tired at the end of the day and I think, this would be harder with a child needing my attention.

I think I am crazy. But then I talk to people at work. People who can't wait to get away from their spouses, from their children. People who complain about the tantrum their child was throwing this morning. And I think, I am not the crazy one. Maybe the choice to have a baby will keep. I am a few years from 30, I have time. And J and I have always felt good about adopting. There is no ticking biological clock when it comes to adoption.

Sometimes I don't like kids. When they are crying. When they are not cute. Some of my friends have had some really creepy-looking babies. People tell me it's different with your own child. You feel a love you have never felt before. That's a pretty big life choice, and I don't know that I can just take your word for it. Not when in the next breathe you are telling me that you can't wait to have some quiet and get some sleep.

There is one person at work who tells me differently. When she talks about her husband and son, her face lights up. She was getting ready to move this weekend and was telling me that her mother-in-law is taking her son, and her face got cloudy as she told me how much she was going to miss him. My eyes teared up, I couldn't help it, I'm a crier. Why is there only one person at work telling me this? Why does everyone else sneer when they talk about their spouse? Sigh when they talk about the kids?

Joseph informed me that since he is working from home, the responsibilities of child-rearing would fall to him and his stay-at-home, traditional mother would give him grief. But he is also very excited about not having to wear a condom. I haven't been able to take birth control since it started making me depressed. I realize something was seriously wrong when I started googling ways to kill myself and thinking about how I needed to do it when J had a solid alibi so he didn't get convicted of my murder.

Oh yes, I am a planner. And I am also rather upset that my health care provider never once asked me how I was feeling. I had no clue about depression being a potential side effect until I read about it in Reader's Digest.

But that's not what this overall musing is about. It's about the biggest responsibility one can have in life. To welcome a child into the world, to grow the family, to experience lack of sleep, poop explosions, and spit up. To pack luggage before going out into the world because a tiny little child needs so much crap. To commit decades of your life caring for someone who came about by one 15 minute act.

I am terrified, but intrigued.