Am I ever going to want a baby?




I’m turning 38 in ten days and I’m still not sure I want to be a mother.

While living in London, it was easy to say I didn’t want to raise one in that crowded and exhausting environment. But, since moving to France, we started working on a baby. Actually, we’re not working that hard, we’re just not paranoid about protection anymore.

There are moments when I feel elated at the thought of completing my dream life in France with the addition of a baby. But then I think of all the work, the mess and the sleepless nights and I confess having felt more elated at getting my period.

Marrying the love of my life last year, the man I simply can’t imagine my life without, has been nothing short of dream come true. And when sometimes, out of nowhere, I remember that there will come a day when he will leave me alone in the world, I simply cannot bear the thought of it. But I don’t want a baby to futureproof my potential loneliness. I want to want to have a baby.

Almost all my friends who are married or in a relationship have children. It is that age. They all suddenly blend into each other on Facebook, scrunched little faces with big eyes and funny hair. They are cute. They are adorable. But, thank God, they are other people’s children.

All my life I’ve been on the run. Moved houses, travelled, never stayed in a place too long. It took a long time for me to wholeheartedly want to move to France. I didn’t want to be stuck (although stuck is not exactly how I would describe my life in this paradisiac corner of the world). For many years, it used to be just me, you know, hopping on a plane somewhere, keeping agile. But I was lonely at times. Travelling is more fun when it’s two of you.

So one day you meet the guy and you go to far away places together, volunteer with elephants, have fun. Then you get married and get a cat because cats are independent and low maintenance but you realise you can only travel to Europe for a few days, paying someone to feed his Furriness. Then you move to France and you have chickens and goats and the said cat to worry about. Suddenly jumping on a plane to Colombia or New Zealand isn’t so easy anymore. But you keep telling myself that you can still do it, you can still arrange something. You find this house swapping website so other people can stay in your house and look after your animals for you while you stay in theirs.

But a baby? What does one do with a baby? You can’t hand him over to another family on a house swap situation. You have to take that baby everywhere!

Am I ever going to want a baby? I’m pretty sure I won’t wake up one day desperately wanting one. But I’m also sure that when it does happen, I will embrace it with all my might, no matter how scary the though of it. Because I never run away from scary things. I run into them even if that means I crash and burn.

I’m just gonna have to find someone to look after it while I travel the world. (Joking, doh!)




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