Biological Time Bomb

The moment I realised I was in love with M was in IKEA. We had gone there for Swedish meatballs, just to kill a rainy afternoon. It was long before we said "I love you." It was before we had even stayed the night at the other's apartment. Yet standing there in that soulless warehouse, surrounded by rushing shoppers and bland Swedish furniture, I wanted us to buy a house and fill it with things and stay locked in it alone together forever. With my M, I never saw lightning bolts or got sweaty palms. I didn't feel weak at the knees when we kissed or pine for him when we were apart for an hour. But he has always given me this urge to settle down.

There was this time when I realised the loan my father had secretly taken out in my name defaulted and that any chance I had of taking out a loan to finish school was ruined. I felt so lost, so defeated, totally alone. I was sitting on a bar stool next to M, sobbing quietly and feeling like my life had finally caught up with me. M is a man of few words, but he just took my hand and said "we'll fix it. You and me against the world." It was kind of cheesy, he probably even got it from a movie or a song, but I was immediately comforted. If anyone else had said it I might have laughed, but from him it seemed true. Even M's smell makes me feel calm. Not the smell of his cologne or his soap, the smell of HIM. Sometimes when I can't sleep because I am feeling anxious or sad I bury my face in his neck and get a good whiff of him. It always works. I always tease him by saying that I only love him because of his smell, that his pheromones are so strong I couldn't resist him. This is, of course, not entirely true. But M's ability to inexplicably make me want to nest, and the ever-powerful draw of his BO are certainly testaments to the strength of biology.

As a social scientist, I have always been much more a fan of nurture in the whole NvN argument. But as evident above, I do believe in natural forces by which we are not rendered powerless - but are certainly weakened. Biology played its part in bringing M and I together, and it has started rearing its ugly head again - trying to encourage the growth of our little family. You guessed it, the old biological clock is ticking.

"Ticking" might be an understatement. It has been "ticking" for a while. I have always loved kids. I oooh and ahhh over babies, I have always loved babysitting and spent the majority of my teen aged summers as a nanny. I have often wondered what my children would look like and even written names down at the back of my diary. But this is different. This is not your average "tick-tock." This is an all-powerful, biological drive that says screw you, your plans, your husband's plans, your PhD or any gallivanting you had hoped to do - it is baby time. It is a pain in my ovaries when I see small children, the constant urge to touch my abdomen looking for any sensation that something is in there. It is an overwhelming urge to love and cuddle my dog in ways that no animal who has potentially just eaten its own feces should ever be loved or cuddled.

At first I thought my desire to pro-create was a societal invention. I worried that I wanted to have a baby because it was the next thing to do...go to college(check), get married (check), get a good job(check), buy a house (check) - have a baby. I grew suspicious that society was trying to force me to have a baby through brainwashing and manipulation. I began to rant at the news when it showed stories about the dangers of women having children in their 30s and 40s - convinced that it was an attempt by the male-dominated media world to reinforce the glass ceiling. Now I fret that if I don't get knocked up before 30 I am ruining any chance of having a family at all. Is it all hormones? My doctor thinks so. When I went to see him recently about the horrible, painful, emotional menstrual periods I have been having he informed me that "childless women of my age" often experience difficult menstrual cycles because their bodies are ready for childbirth (reminder, I am 27. 27!), and that once I have a baby it will all correct itself again. It probably is hormones to some extent. I mean, what rational woman would be so overcome by emotion alone that every time she sees a baby she gets the urge to grab and run? If it is nature, it's no wonder it is doing over time. Believe me, nature is going to have to work hard to beat out reason in this argument.

There are a million reasons not to have a baby right now. First being that there are so many things I want to do. I haven't been anywhere outside of Europe and North America. I want to see different cultures, volunteer in the third world, travel around speaking at conferences. And I am really selfish! I want to have the option of staying out with my friends until the early hours of the morning. I want my husband all to myself for a bit longer - I require a lot of attention and he can barely keep up as it is. And what about my youthful good looks? What will become of them? I want my nice perky breasts to remain nice and perky. I am concerned enough over the size of my arse, do I really want to make it bigger? And then there is work. I am only just starting to excel at what I do. I want to get to the top of my field and have the kind of career I have always dreamed of, not take a year off and let some idiot man take my job while I am home changing diapers.

Baby? Are you kidding? When? Where exactly is a baby going to fit into all of this?

But then I think about a little person with dark curly hair and big brown eyes and eyelashes so long they tickle your face when you cuddle her (this is what my husband looked like when he was a baby - one of those completely irresistible children who you just had to scoop up and hold tight). I think of trips to the beach and pony rides and first days of school. A little person who gives your life a whole new purpose and direction. Suddenly none of those things listed above even seem to matter - or they can at least take a back seat for while.

Everyone goes through this debate, right? No one likes to give anything up or having to share their partner's affection. Who willingly does something that makes your body change forever, and causes pain that you will never be able to describe? This is where nature kicks in (or kung fu/roundhouse kicks its way in, as it were). I think I will just let nature take its course and hope for the best.

In the meantime I need to find an outlet for my maternal instincts before I start nursing my puppy.