Monday, September 20, 2010

Babies Make Me Sick

12:00 midnight, Sept. 20, 2010, I felt like writing down my thoughts after watching Runaway Bride on DVD with my hubby. This was the very first movie we saw when my hubby was still courting me back in 1999.


The title of this blog post is not a metaphorical expression that means something else. I mean it like it is. Babies really do make me sick --- they make me feel lethargic, with clogged nose and it's like I'm coming down with fever or something. And I am never or rarely sick. It first happened that time I spent a day or two with my baby nephew a year or two ago. I thought I caught some virus and didn't think much of it, though, I already had my suspicions. Then yesterday evening until early this afternoon, my best friend stayed with us and she brought her cute little 8-month old daughter with her. By the time they left, I was having chills, my head was throbbing like hell, I couldn't breathe and then I fell into a feverish stupor. And no, I'm not exaggerating. It may be a combination of things like I was already over-fatigued to begin with, plus all this baby talk and the possibility of me getting pregnant and having kids in the future, and my hubby dropping this time bomb on my lap that someday, he may consider adopting, were really stressing me out.

Let me explain a little further first.

Even before I reached puberty, I already knew deep in my heart what I want and don't want in life. I am stubborn that way and even my parents say so. And when I want something, I go get it. When I don't want something, I also do everything in my power to not get it. Like that time after elementary when I wanted so much to get away from my family that I decided to live in the province with my grandparents and take up my secondary education there even if it meant leaving my friends behind... or that time in sophomore year in college when I ran away from home (with the blessing and help of my dad) because I hated my mom and wanted to get out of her nagging clutches and wanted to live my life under my own rules... or that time that my husband and I eloped when we were 21 because my family was so against him and I never listen to my family anyway so I might as well do what I want and live my own life. See the theme here? It may sound selfish because it's always about me, what I want, and more of me. But really, how many people do know what they want and live the way they want? At least I am proud to say that I have always followed my own happiness even if it meant hurting my family in the process. It's for their own good anyway. They gotta know where to draw the line. They may have brought me into this world and I am grateful for it (my mom taught me a lot of sensible and valuable lessons like not getting pregnant in my teens coz I did have an army of suitors back in the day), but I also gotta live MY OWN LIFE and not finish their own broken dreams for them. Get what I mean? I'm sure deep down you know what I mean. Isn't this the theme of most movies out there (especially Disney movies) --- knowing what you want and going for it?

Anyway, before I digress any further, let me go back to my point. I think what stressed me out was not the baby per se (coz I don't hate them especially if they're cute... I think I like them), it's just that seeing that I am a married woman of 8 years, people expect that I follow the traditional route, if not now, maybe someday. What they don't really, really, really get about me is that I was never the traditional kind and I don't think I will ever be. My college block mates I think saw my essence when they described me as a smurfette... that I'm this girl living in her own little world with her own little rules. I've always been that kind of girl - open minded, yes, but very, very independent. I don't get easily swayed by what most people think. The only time that I get affected is when people close to me expect something or hope for something like having a baby when I was very, very clear from the beginning that the life that I have now has always been the life that I've always wanted --- free to do what I want, when I want, however I want it.

On the contrary, I don't blame them for hoping that I change my mind, or for wondering where all this anti-baby thing is coming from. After all, Peter and I will probably produce a cute, smart and blessed human being if we really wanted to, plus, our childhood wasn't that bad either. Our parents raised us the best way they knew how under the given circumstances and we did have a lot of blessings along the way. So I guess, simply put, the fact that my individuality and choices in life get questioned whenever babies are around, that's what makes me sick! Especially if it's done by people I am most close to.

To my best friend, I know you didn't mean for me to feel this way... heck I didn't know I'd feel this way until now... but next time we see each other, let's just not talk about me having a baby anymore, okay? It's one of those things that physically and psychologically freaks me out. You are a wonderful mother and Heaven is such a joyful little blessing. I do admire you for your courage, strength and determination for raising your baby on your own and I don't judge you for your choices, but you know how different we are and if and when the time comes that I will want one, it will just happen, I promise you that. This also goes for my other best friend, Irene, who never fails to challenge my decisions in life.

To my husband, I now know that I misinterpreted you when you started talking about adopting kids in our 40's. When you told me that "If, for some weird reason we do decide to have a baby someday, I would prefer to adopt because there are already so many unwanted babies in this world." All I heard in that sentence were the words "baby" and "adopt". I failed to hear the essential parts of that phrase which were "If" and "we". No wonder in my head, I started thinking about annulment (because I felt betrayed when you knew right from the start what kind of a girl I am --- a stubborn and carefree one) and began dreaming about being with other men touching my boobs inside a crashing airplane submerged under the sea... what? Yeah, that's how twisted my subconscious thoughts were when you brought up the topic of adopting babies. So how do you expect us to have a baby when you already got one right here --- ME? Coz like a child, I oftentimes need to be told important stuff in a very clear and slow manner so I'd really understand what you were trying to say... just like when trying to talk to a kid.

Anyway, I'm just glad I have this blog to let it all out. I don't wanna be dreaming (I think "nightmaring" is what I call it if there is such a word) about strange men touching my boobs and crashing airplanes anymore. Coffee? Okay, let's go watch another movie. ^_^


Cheska said...

I think that with everything we have both went through, it is our differences that make us closer. I'm sorry that I made you feel sad. I never meant that to happen. I love you always and for what it's worth, you don't have to be a mother to be the best person you can be in life. You already are more fulfilled as a person in more ways than one.

Jennifer Adams-Juan said...

Thanks Mer... This comment means a lot to me. I know you didn't mean to. Don't worry, I'm okay now. =)

Koryn said...

jen, i really felt this blog. and i admire you for always sticking to your choices :)

but for whatever it's worth, i think it's normal that we sometimes question our individuality. i guess it's nature's way of keeping us in check and make sure we're getting what we really want.

Jennifer Adams-Juan said...

Koryn... awww. I'm glad a touched a chord there somewhere.

Socrates once said "A life unquestioned is a life not worth living." I agree.:-)


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