I love babies, I’ve always loved babies. I’ve ohhed and cooed at babies since I was a child. Babies make me happy. Even random stranger’s babies at the grocery store put a big smile on my face.
The problem is that now I’m a walking contradiction. I hold my sweet nephew and smile, then want to cry simultaneously.
I want to hold every baby I see, snuggle them and tell them how cute they are. I also want to cry. Every time I see a baby I want to cry. It makes me happy and then takes me crashing to the ultimate low where I have to examine my own barrenness.
Every little drooly precious face is a reminder that I don’t have one of my own and may never have one of my own. Newborns are especially hard, because no matter what I’ll be a mom, but if that means adoption I may never have a newborn. I think all these depressing things while I’m smiling at the baby.
I used to love to talk to pregnant ladies and new moms, ask them how things were and keep mental notes for later. Now I see a pregnant woman and do a 180, run as fast as I can in the other direction.
I turn on white noise in my head when all of my new mom friends start talking breast feeding and sleep schedules so that I don’t have to pretend I’m interested. Why am I no longer interested? I used to soak all the baby stuff up like a sponge, even when I was 18 and no where near having kids. Now I’m 2 years into desperately wanting to be a mom and I don’t want to hear any of it.
I don’t want to learn from my friends experiences. I want to experience this stuff with them. I don’t think my disinterest is a result of jealousy but more an issue of denial. I feel left behind but if I can manage to ignore that they’ve moved on maybe I won’t feel so behind?