Happy & Healthy
THEN YOU'RE PREGNANT AFTER THREE MONTHS
Well, that pregnancy of mine was quite a huge boom show. I had known the gentleman in question for less than three months when I suddenly turned out to be pregnant. Of course, I know that little ones aren't brought by the stork, but this hit me quite hard. We were still fully in the exploratory phase when I, in all my wisdom, decided that we could do it once without condoms because I had just – but really just, just – had my period. Or well, we might not want to call it ‘wisdom’, and ‘decided’ isn't quite the right word: it just happened.
So there I was, behaving myself. Because I had promised myself after an emotional abortion that I would never do that again – another festive curettage, I mean – I didn't want to be the weakest link and decided that it had to be this way. Or, well, we might not want to call it ‘decided’. It just was.
Actually, I never wanted children. Until I got pregnant once – that just happened too – and I actually decided to have an abortion. I don't know if that was thoughtless or not: in any case, I saw no future for him and me, let alone for ‘our love baby’. Just embarking on such an adventure seemed to me at that moment an impossible task. But after the deed was done, the sadness came – partly driven by hormones, I suspect – and suddenly I could see the enchantment of a little one. Never embarking on such an adventure suddenly seemed to me a particularly bad and unbearable empty idea.
“Taking care of such a little one is no small task; it forged an incredibly strong bond between us almost immediately”
Men came and went – yes, you can take that quite literally – and because there was never a keeper among them, I had decided to make some concrete decisions before my 35th birthday. Not together, then alone. A sperm donor with great genes and a good heart: on fleek – Marvin, if you're reading this, you know who you are (uh, and the whole world with you).
And then I was suddenly pregnant. By someone I barely knew, but who seemed like a cool guy with a great sense of humor. No guarantees were there. But you never have those. There are dudes (and dudettes) that you have known for decades and who still leave the nest when the die is cast, for whatever reason. It was what it was, and I dared to trust myself: I would be there no matter what. Moreover, I had been alone long enough to know that I would manage just fine – if not great.
Now I have a daughter. And a man, the father of my daughter. I think it's fantastic, even though it wasn't always easy. You get to know each other in a pressure cooker – baby is coming, cuckoo, baby is here! – and under that significantly increased pressure, your strongest points and worst character traits come to light very quickly. I think we had mapped each other out as meticulously in two years as couples who celebrate their downy wedding (seven years). Taking care of such a little one is no small task; it forged an incredibly strong bond between us almost immediately.
That this ‘just happened’ is a blessing for me, otherwise I might still be fiddling with a yes-no scenario – despite those bold proactive intentions. It can take years before you reach the point with someone where you're ready for a baby. Since I had the attention span of a cocker spaniel in relationships, a candidate was long gone before the stage of weighing options – there was always something that didn't sit right with me. That I am managing to hold on for so long can be called a miracle, but that is also because I am now inclined to talk first before I do the day-with-the-hand thing. After all, you want to not just let a separation happen, not when you have a child together. And what is ready? When do you decide something like that with someone? I see enough friends who keep dreaming of a perfect prince while their fertile years fly by and they never see their wish for children come true.
The thing is: no one is perfect – especially not me. You can strive for perfection and work towards family expansion for ages, but a long relationship, a beautiful career, a neat little house, and a desire for children are no guarantee for a successful family. It simply starts with love. And perseverance. And then the rest will follow naturally. Or not. That's a matter of trying.
