Biology Sucks

“Cut the crap Hamlet, my biological clock is ticking and I want babies now!”  It’s an old line from the Reduced Shakespeare Company’s attempt to inspire an audience member’s participation as Ophelia, one that I used to just find humorous in an abstract sense.  But more and more lately it pops up in the back of my mind with a hint of truth.  I’m fighting a losing battle with biology.

As far as I can tell, this all started about a year ago.  The first mention of it that I can remember was to my friend Keith, and went something like, “Awwww, look at the baby!  ….WHAT THE FUCK.”  Keith cracked up and then told me that his female friends around the age of 25 had commented to him on how disturbing hormones get, and how there are moments where you just want a baby more than anything.  I consoled myself with the fact that I was only developing a newfound fondness for infants rather than a pressing desire to kidnap one.

It has only grown worse since then.

Now I’ve never been a girly girl, and I’ve never been the kind of girl who dreams about weddings and children and marriage.  And even in NYC this past weekend with Jen and Tristan, I regaled them with the tale of my parents’ “wedding”: no real proposal, no ceremony, no kiss.  A judge, a signature, and a handshake.  This was, of course, after we took the time to bury the Strand’s copy of How to Get Married, quite possibly the most unsettling children’s book I’ve ever seen.  They reacted with amusement and commented that it seems to have worked for my parents, and obviously none of us are ruled by heteronormative standards in our views of love and marriage and mutual contempt for that book.  I was raised with the understanding that weddings are not required, careers should be established before a family, and that parenthood is a messy and sleep-deprived process.  Nothing about marriage was ever romanticized to me.

But oh my god babies.

Yesterday as Anran and I were gardening* we were approached by two old acquaintances and their infant son.  Anran had met the kid before but I hadn’t, nor had I seen his dad in at least three years now.  The whole incident was precious.  Although the toddler (maybe 2 years old at this point?) approached willingly, when he reached the driveway he turned shy and retreated to dad.  Even so he yelled many hellos and goodbye and did a lot of waving.  Consequently every baby-oriented hormone in my body was flipped on for the rest of the day and I was left picking up the overly-sentimental pieces of myself with repeated reminders that no, actually I really don’t need a baby right now, nor do I want one at this point in time.

In one of my heart-to-heart chats with Mr. Rose he once commented that it seemed as if my whole life I had been rebelling against being a girl – he quickly corrected himself, saying that “rebelling” wasn’t the right word, although I feel like it’s a pretty accurate statement.  But he reassured me that at such a critical point in my life this was simply the discovery of another aspect of myself, and that since I am after all, you know, a GIRL, then there was really no problem with being one.  And it’s not like I’m going to suddenly drop my career asperations and become a housewife baby-factory.  Really in the end it’s more annoying than anything else, arguing logic against biological instincts.

Seriously brain, I understand that my biological clock is ticking, but I just don’t want a baby now. But if you want a compromise I’ll offer up my services as a sitter.  Just to remind you how obnoxious kids really are.  And for hugs.

*Our herbs were flourishing.  Then Poe ate them all.  Luckily we had already transplanted the zucchinis before she got to those!  This makes me wonder how I can manage to continue doing some indoor gardening when I move to Michigan, as I was originally hoping to grow a little kale and maintain some of my herbs…