Exactly Two And A Half Years

This week was a milestone week for me. Not in a good way though. Or not in my opinion anyway. Tick tock tick tock is all I flippin' hear. Loudly. Constantly.





There is not a day that passes lately when I am unaware of the clock. The clock I didn't even know I had until I was 29 years old. But I went from not knowing it existed to being keenly aware of it every waking moment of my day (and some sleeping moments too).

I want so badly to be a momma. Without a shadow of a doubt, I know it is what I am supposed to be. Or what I most want to be. I sort of think it's all like Jimmy Buffet says, "there's a fine line between Saturday night and Sunday morning." Or in this case, really really really wanting something and knowing it is my destiny.

I soft of feel like I am being punished for not wanting to be a mother earlier in life. But come on, y'all know what my childhood was like. It's not like I really knew that kind of love. Plus, coming to this conclusion at this point in my life, seemingly out of nowhere, has to be a sign that it really is from my heart of hearts. Not something I would agree to do to fulfil any sort of role. Though I am totally not the role filling kind of girl anyway. And not that everyone who grew up know they wanted to be a parent is filling any sort of role. I'm just saying that for me, it came out of the blue sky. Ask Bestie. I never wanted kids. And now it consumes me.





Nearly all of my friends have kids. And all but one of my 10 closest friends are married. I have no... not even one... unmarried friends up here. They are all married. And while I can live with the never getting married part (don't want to but I've gone this long so what's the rest of my life?), I feel so left out of the becoming a mother part. I don't know how exactly to make it all fall into place. And plus, who doesn't really want to have "it all?!" I was raised to believe I could have it all and dammit...I want it ALL!

This week was my half birthday. Which means nothing except for the fact that it marked the passing of the two and a half year mark. Two and a half years to what, you ask? Two and half years until I am officially and medically old. Two and a half years until I turn 35. Two and half years until doctors everywhere put me in an entirely new box. (It has taken me days to type this out by the way because I have to stop and cry. Truly that upsetting to me!) It's not the growing older that I fear so much. It's growing older and being alone and never reaching my goals. I was always a great student. But I imagine this is what it must have felt like for the kid who got left back a grade in school and then still had to take the special help classes. I somehow went from promising academic scholar to wearing the dunce cap.






For the record, I write this blog for myself. Not to get pity and certainly not to get rude comments. I needed to unload this from my head. It was heavy and now I can just store it here for a bit and focus on happier topics. But if anyone else has walked in my shoes, I could use some advice this week. Or a good story. Turning 30 was very hard for me but turning 32.5 this week was nearly as difficult.

Damn clock. Stupid age. Why are women old at 35 but men are spry into their 60's? Being a girl is hard sometimes!