Sunday, September 6, 2009

Children and other such creatures

I have had a weekend filled with child things. Strangely, not actual children but discussions about children, lots of interactions with people with children, my parents are up in The Big Smoke and babysat the baby boys last night, allowing my sister and N to go out to a movie, and then, mainly, I have been thinking of Z, The Pond's girlfriend who had to have a hysterectomy last Thursday.

She is just 30, and has struggled with cysts and pain and nastiness to do with those 'womanly bits' for way too long, so this became the best option. Children, luckily, have not been top of her list of priorities, but I imagine that this is still a bloody huge thing to deal with. Even for those who do not have a huge desire to bear children, one doesn't want to be given no option. It's never nice to have someone shut a door in your face.

I guess it's an issue close to my heart - my youthful plans had included many children, a plan which was knocked flying by The Tragedy. It's not impossible, mind, but is something I would not attempt - I would be so very afraid that something would go wrong and I wouldn't know. Basically, it's just not practical. The thing is, that I guess it's also not just The Tragedy that changed things, it's me too. The more of my friends I see having children, the more I realise how hard it is. My selfish side grins quietly inwards as I get to go home, leaving a friend dealing with a puking 6-month old and a tantrumming 3-year old.

But at the same time, my heart breaks at the thought that I'll never have that. Even the tantrums. It's that bit after when, with tear-streaked faces, they climb into mom's arms and snuggle in. Kinda makes the tantrums okay I'd think.

Mud, a girl who's (brilliant) blog I read (isn't this bloggy world fabulous?) wrote a similar post a while ago and put it so much better than I'll ever be able to. I hope she doesn't mind me linking to it.

And then I remember I have beautiful nephews and my friends have gorgeous children who I get to hug and kiss and make up stories for about fairies and dragons in the garden and hear laugh, just because the world is a happy, lovely place when you're three and I realise that, really, I am blessed. I hope Z feels the same, and is not too sad (beside being horribly sore, right now).

And my heart clenches, and carries on. I guess that's the way of the world, right?

5 comments:

allie said...

Shiny and Mud - I have SO much I'd like to say to you but I have no idea what to say.
I know that sounds mad but -
Everything sounds shallow and pat.
Three 30-somethings with that kind of pain . . . its just unthinkable

Hotter Than... said...

Yep sometimes it sucks. I know it's an understatement but as Allie said anything I may say here will seem inadequate. I could remark on a "grand plan" the "universe works in mysterious ways" that these things "make us stronger inside" but we all know that and yet ...

Shiny said...

Allie and Hotter than... - yes, it's one of those things that there is no answer to and is, most of the time, a completely dealable issue. Just sometimes one wonders what if... xx

Mud in the City said...

I do take comfort from hearing from other bloggers that it isn't Just Me. But I just wish I had some idea of my own personal Grand Plan so that I could reconcile myself to what it holds and not just focus on dreams.

Shiny said...

Aah, Mud... the elusive Grand Plan. Perhaps it'll suddenly become clear, when the time is right. I'm going with that anyway x