Last week, a reader checked in who hasn't been here in awhile, and what with all the dog drama and the moving prep and the job lunacy and the sugar-freeness I've been writing about lately, she was like SO, WHAT'S UP WITH THE WHOLE KID THING???
And I realized that although it feels like everything in my life is about THE WHOLE KID THING, I haven't gone into much detail recently about exactly where I am with... yes, that's right... THE WHOLE KID THING.
So here goes.
But first, let's take a little trip down memory lane. A (premature) retrospective. Because I'm still ailing, and my clever muscle is weak. And it's easier to assemble a pastiche than to start all over from scratch. Or something. Me weary.
So: A Brief History Of Starfish Envy.
The baby-planning was percolating, but wasn't named until I heard Isabella Rossellini on NPR. Why she chose to narrate a series of short animated films about animal reproduction, I don't know, but I'm grateful she talked about it on NPR when I happened to be listening.
Suddenly, what I'd been feeling had a name. Starfish Envy.
Isabella Rossellini may have smacked me on the head and said "HEY, YOU"RE ON THE ROAD, LADY!" But I was already there, even if I wasn't totally aware of it, because of a little Ethiopian girl with an enormous smile, and strangely, because of my mom.
At first, I was leaning toward adoption... and trying to come to terms with what I'd be letting go of if I took that route.
I had some hard choices to make. About where I live, about how I think, about how I want to go about becoming a mom. And, for the first time, in vitro became a serious part of the discussion. In a drunken, kinda weird way.
So I started doing A LOT of reading. (And I consulted with an astrologer. Because I live in L.A., and that's what we do.) And I learned about sperm. Well, sperm donors. Which kinda changed everything. Because it turns out, not all sperm donors are anonymous. And that makes a HUGE difference.
Still, I met with an adoption attorney.
And immediately after the meeting, I kinda knew how I was leaning. Which was not un-terrifying. So I did more reading. And I watched a movie about single women who are trying to get pregnant on their own using donor sperm. (Which freaked me out. Because it's hard, folks. This whole pregnancy is your late thirties thing doesn't always happen.) I got my FSH levels tested... which, by the way, is the last fertility related good news I've gotten.
It's probably just because I'm adjusting to being off the pill, but my fertility chart is CUH-RAAAAZY. Temps all over the map, iffy ovulation, short luteal phase. My acupuncturist assures me it's all fine... but it feels frustrating and crappy.
And then life kind of fell to shit. So I've been managing wounded dogs and packing plans and TWO BOUTS WITH SICKNESS, which is SO NOT COOL. (Although I did manage a blogging digression to rail about Roman Polanski!) All of which, I'm sure, has played into rising doubts about this whole parenthood thing.
I mean, seriously, what am I thinking? It's all really, really, REALLY scary.
Then again, most good things are.
And that's what I'm doing. Because only a crazy person wouldn't have doubts about having kids. It's a big deal. A big, fabulous, messy, amazing, wild, life-changing deal.
So. That, my friends, is what's up with the whole kid thing. Starting in January, I will officially stop being a Thinker and become a Tryer.
Let the wild rumpus start!