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Where do we come from? One woman’s look at conception as her clock ticks
4 months ago · · pregnancy, · Explicit
Everyone likes to think they were born into a fairytale: boy meets girl, they fall in love, have happy marriage and much-desired 2.4 children to whom they are devoted.
But what percentage of conceptions actually followed this cliché?
How many of us are accidents? Products of one-night stands? Of rape? Of an affair? Peer pressure? Insta-pressure? My-friends-are-all-mums-and-I-don’t-want-to-miss-out pressure? We’re-married-and-now-what pressure? My-biological-clock-is-ticking pressure? Maybe-a-baby-will-save-this-relationship pressure? How many of us are products of potential future regret? How many of us were conceived with the idea that we will care for our elderly parents in their time of need? How many of us were born into strict religious families? To please grandparents? How many of us were conceived in a test tube to parents who had tried every other conceivable method of conceiving before breaking the bank to have you?
The only thing between your generation and your parents’ is time. Hairstyles, music, technology- granted. But mainly, time. All dads were once boys who just wanted blowjobs in the back seat of their shitty Ford. All mums were once wolf-whistled, had their arses grabbed in clubs, took advantage of the guy they considered “like a brother”, knowing he’d do anything for her.
And then, at some point, the decision/circumstance/ opportunity/accident happened and you appeared. Is it time for us to question our roots? To speak openly about the journey between childless and parent? To admit to your child that the only reason they’re here is X/Y/Z (but that we wouldn’t have it any other way, of course).
What I mean to say is this: I have no idea if I want to have a child and I am a married 37 year old woman who can audibly hear each second of her biological clock tick by as she waits patiently for a sign.