What’s that sound???

That sound? That ticking sound, like a bomb threatening to detonate?  Holy crap, I think it’s my biological clock.


After the failure of my long-term relationships (being an adult sucks sometimes), I’d pretty much given up on more kids really.  I’d convinced myself I didn’t even want them…even though we all know I’ve wanted a whole freakin’ tribe of my own all along…but every turn of the calendar page told me to shut that dream down, be done with it.  Not gonna happen.  You don’t want it.  You never wanted it.  Throw it away.  Forget it.  And so I did.

Or I thought I did.

Today, in my post-Vegas jet-lagged confusion, I forgot my lunch at home and had to go out for something.  Found myself at IHOP, tucked away in a corner where I could at least see trees and daylight for a little while.  A few moments after my order was taken, a family was seated in the booth opposite mine.  A baby girl in a hot pink tutu was placed in the high chair at the end of the table.  I tried not to look…not looking, not looking…omg I’m looking! And this sweet toothless girl in her hot pink cute ensemble is staring at me and smiling.  So I wave.  And she waves. And I wave. And she blows me a kiss. OMG!  All the wishes for a big family, for being mom to a whole herd of kooky kids, for some kind of reliable male partner, all that was set free in the instant that kiss was blown at me by this fuzzy headed little creature.

And now I’m just kind of an emotional girly mess.  The clock is ticking loudly.  Time is wasting, time was wasted on people who had no intention of every trying to be a family.  There is a window of time left where I could have my own kids, but that window seems so short, especially considering I’m missing the reliable male partner portion of the equation, the one who helps change diapers and helps make ends meet and wants to be a part of this whole thing.   I turn 40 next week and the biological clock is starting to sound more like a cuckoo clock in my head–was I cuckoo for wanting the kids and the partner…or was I cuckoo for not figuring out a way to do it on my own? Either way, I feel cuckoo, emotional and kinda overwhelmed.  Life has a way of working out and you never know how your dreams will come to fruition…but I am feeling skeptical about this one.

I’m not hell-bent on more kids having to be my biological children.  I could foster.  I could adopt.  I need more money and more time, though, than being a single parent paying all the bills provides.

I’m sorry if the sound of my ticking clock disturbs all of western NC.  I thought I’d pulled the battery out of that clock and tossed those out long ago, and that the clock was on lockdown in a vault somewhere.  Blame the sweet little kid in the tutu for my emotional chaos.

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