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Sparkle (0)
Forever, I have been a child ... or at least felt like one. Though I function in the real world -- taxes, 401(k), jobs -- I basically do whatever I want. Committed to nothing and beholden to no one, I own no property, have no debt and have never needed a lawyer. Let me tell you, sisters, it's been divine. A friend once told me that I "pass for normal" while another claims I was born with "a golden horseshoe" up my ass. So why disrupt my quiet Queendom and tackle motherhood at 44? Am I crazy? Naive? Drunk from luxurious sleep?
After years and years of internal debate, quiet longing and acute observation, I recently arrived at a threshold: The time to plug my nose, cross my fingers and jump is NOW. Hell, the time was actually Yesterday but Today is all I've got.
Though I explored the spendy world of orchestrated conception and considered having the child of my gay cousin (I am adopted, btw), I begrudgingly faced the hard reality that it's just too late. The medical risks just kept staring me down and I've chickened out. If something didn't turn out right and it was tied to my age, well, I could never forgive myself.
And so, adoption it is. And having won the family lotto by being adopted by the fun-loving Clisby tribe at the age of 10 days, I love the idea of a karmic boomerang. The world is filled with all kinds of kids who need a loving home, a second chance, a place to thrive and be themselves. And hey, I've never met anyone blood-related to me so why start now?
Now, I am all too aware of my gaping hole of knowledge when it comes to parenting, and the longer I wait, the bigger that hole gets. The building blocks of my perspective consist primarily of actually being someone's child and observing other people raising theirs. It looks fun but tiresome, messy but spontaneous, joyful and stressful, expensive but enriching. It looks to me like Love.
"Poop. Poop is the biggest downside."-- stay-at-home dad, Michael J. Madsen, discussing the negatives of parenting on NPR
Though my life has had its standard share of ups, downs and WTF?!'s, it is has been an existence primarily of great amusement and more often than not, pure joy. My family and I get along swimmingly, although they reside at five different perimeters of the nation, while I reside dead center in Colorado. Extensive travel, a fascinating career and a habit of living in beautiful places has left me feeling lucky, if not pampered, by the hand of fate. (The very same hand that delivered me to my family.)
Unfortunately, I have always been somewhat careless with my romantic relationships, never giving this part of my life the laser beam attention it deserves. (Fear of intimacy -- blahblahblah.) And so, I faced the prospect of raising a child alone, which looks to be a mix between Really Fucking Hard and Overwhelmingly Exhausting.
So many times, I came close to joining a wonderful support network called "Single Mothers By Choice." Every time, I'd stop myself with this thought: "But wait, raising a child alone isn't my choice at all. Oh no, I'd really, REALLY rather not." I can understand bravely dealing with that situation when it is thrust upon you, but actively and willfully creating it? Not for me.
"#35 - Honor your family in whatever way works. I give my mom foot rubs and pour her wine; I make dinner for my dad and kiss his bald head. Simple stuff but deeply appreciated."-- me, giving a gift of Life Advice, via blog post, for a friend's daughter's Bat Mitzvah
And so, I put it off. In hindsight, I should have been more focused about locating a mate who wanted parenthood, but I was still too shy (terrified? insecure?) about expressing such desires, even to myself. Who did I think I was wanting my own family? Hadn't we already figured out that the "You can have it all!" slogan didn't always pan out? What if I suck at being a mom? What if I give them bad advice? Accidentally teach them to cuss?
Then again, I've never met a parent who was prepared for the journey. (Evidently, the Terrible Twos can emerge at any age, and everyone thinks they got off easy with a dream baby until that point. Is that about right?) And hey, there
