Another baby

I ran into an old friend and her very quite 2½-year-old daughter on Thursday night. The first thing her daughter says is: “I have a baby sister in mummy’s tummy”. Exciting news of course, but once again I was reminded that I don’t have any children of my own and I’m the odd person out. I have more or less decided that I do not want children. I’m just not mother material. But what hurt with this decision is that I’m going to miss out on the amazing wonder of carrying a person inside my body for around nine months. To feel that special love and connection a mother has to her child(ren) no matter what. To know that I (and the father) have created a very unique person and that person are always going to be part of our lives. I also feel sad for mum who never will have any “real” grandchildren of her own. So she is and will be the odd person out as well. Her daughter hasn’t given her any grandchildren.

I wonder if it’s society to make me feel like this? Still it is very much expected that a woman should have babies and be responsible for the next generation. It really doesn’t matter how enlightened and liberated we are. It’s just there. Women and babies.