Is there really such a thing as a biological clock? I’m well aware of the fact that, as a woman, certain things should start and stop with your body when you reach a certain age. Your 20’s and early 30’s are said to be prime time for baby making and your late 40’s and 50’s is when the factory should close up shop and go out of business. Now, more often than not, we see women having babies well into their 40’s and even 50’s. They’ve climbed in their careers and after, found someone in which they want to settle down and raise a family. As modernized women, we’ve started to focus on education and career and have families later.
I’ll be the first to admit that I am on that train. When I was younger, and relatively oblivious, I used to bank on the fact that I’d be married and well on my way to being a mother by the age of 26. In my mind, that was a feasible age to simmer down and put a bean in the oven. It’s safe to say that, that ship has sailed. In fact, I put every single one of my young pre conceived notions on that boat, pushed it out to sea, threw a grenade on it and blew it to smithereens. To hell with that!
Reaching my late 20’s was liberating. Granted, I have baby fever like it’s an actual disease, I completely lose it when I see infant clothes and shoes, and I have a starting 5 of baby names ready to go when the time is right. However, most of the time, I relish in the fact that my time is my time and my decisions only affect me. I have kids around me ranging of all different ages that I can play with and spoil and then send them home to their parents. I can do anything I desire without any explanations, apologies, or pre-arrangements. It’s good for me. For now…..
I’m rapidly approaching my 30’s and the clock is ticking. I never wanted to be an “Old Mom” but my own mother always reminds me that 30 is the new 20 and technology has started to help more and more women with conceiving at an older age. I’m comfortable with that.
I’m not comfortable with leaving it up to fate. How nerve wrecking is it to wait on fate? You actually have to leave it up to chance that you will find the person you’ve been daydreaming about for years sitting in Chick-Fil-A dipping their fries in the signature sauce and washing it down with the famous lemonade. (Because Chick-Fil-A is real love so it should be where you find it) Fate is supposed to show up right there with your eyes meeting theirs, doves flying around the two of you while Etta James’s song “At Last” plays in the background. Fate and chance can be frustrating when you’re climbing the age chart and you realize that everyone frequents the drive-thru.
I never had the goal of being a baby mama. Finding a man, falling in love, getting married, and becoming the mother of his children was always the plan. No disrespect to those comfortable with that but I’m just not one. I really pray that fate isn’t stalling on me. This moment may not be the best time but I’d rather my breast milk not turn into powder waiting for the right time.
The right time? We’ll see about that.
“You’re Welcome for the Memo”
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