I didn’t notice it at first. Maybe it began with years of cooing at tiny outfits. Or maybe it began when I became an Aunt. Whatever the beginnings - it never stopped. Time brought with it head cocked awes and higher voice patterns to the tiny passerbys.
I had no control – I was becoming a stereotype for which I’d once had so much disdain towards.
Soon the “silent” judging stage came immediately followed by interrogative questioning of new mothers. By the time I knew what was happening it was too late. My dissent into a world unknown and resisted by past me’s.
The final stage hit me with a pang - “I WANT ONE.” And this is where we are. Early 30s, barely working part time because I am still struggling “to find myself” within a chosen career path. And I want to bring a kid into it?
Good luck, baby.
Not an instructional blog but the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth - so help me Mom.