(no subject)
May. 21st, 2009 02:01 pmThis has been swimming around in my head since yesterday, when the immensely courteous
november_girl asked chums to let her know the limits of their baby-friendliness. It got me thinking about babies and how I feel towards them.
I'm very unlikely to have a child, ever. Seriously, there's nothing in me that wants them. Kittens, puppies, my heart has room for all the beasties of the earth, but babies? No.
It was always this way. Throughout my infancy, I ignored dolls. They bored me, and babies exasperated me. Someone crying because they were tired? Why didn't they just go to sleep then? How stupid was that?
There was also the physical pain of hearing baby shriek. It never was just a scream, babies could hit a point that hurt so badly I just needed to get away. And parents were ghastly selfish too; I recall a nightmare flight home on a plane full of babies and parents. Of course the pressure in the plane was too much for the ears of the little ones, and they hollered and shat and hollered some more. This at least I could understand, they were in pain and no-one could explain why or get rid of it. The parents changed the babies' nappies and the whole plane stank of excrement accompanied by high pitched screams, I was in tears. All I wanted to do was stand in front of each baby and SCREAM incoherently in rage at the pain in my head and the stench all around me, to grab a filthy nappy and rub the faeces all over the faces of the breeding demichimps. It took days for the headache to go away.
This was one of the nastiest physical situations I have ever suffered, and I speak as a woman who has had a naked flame applied to her nipple (Oh NHS, how you have fallen, Daystar!) The two experiences were easily on a par.
So often a happy mum has put her baby in my arms and waited for my melting moment, when I mist over and my eyes soften as I surrender finally saying 'Ooooh. I want one tooooo!' It's never happened, to their mortification. What about sides of the brain and instinctual nurturing, what about chemicals and hormones and oooh Being a Woman? I should care for babies, something deep within should be moving in tenderness cos I'm made that way. It's natural innit?
Afraid not. Nope, no chemicals, no flare ups in the brain, no hormones, no need, no biological clock ticking, no broodiness, no imperative, no interest. I'm a straight white European female human. I'm not an estrogen nexus needing motherhood to provide me with purpose. I'm not saying that this is always the case (having so many brilliant chums who are also great mothers, I would be foolish to make such a claim) but justification is something often refused women except in the great default of motherhood, beloved and approved, society's favoured place for the unfavoured gender. I suspect its potential as a path to false power and pressurised love.
As for babies, well, I am ready to try, as I am with any new acquaintance, but nothing is guaranteed. To me, that being is a person, and they may not like me or vice versa. New in the world, they deserve all the chances they can get. I'll always give what I can, because life is too tough for us not to be kind to one another. But that's as far as it goes.
And incredibly, my breasts are still here, my chin comparatively hairless, my gynie bits all present and correct. XX I am, XX I remain. It gives me possibilities, it doesn't make me goo.
I'm very unlikely to have a child, ever. Seriously, there's nothing in me that wants them. Kittens, puppies, my heart has room for all the beasties of the earth, but babies? No.
It was always this way. Throughout my infancy, I ignored dolls. They bored me, and babies exasperated me. Someone crying because they were tired? Why didn't they just go to sleep then? How stupid was that?
There was also the physical pain of hearing baby shriek. It never was just a scream, babies could hit a point that hurt so badly I just needed to get away. And parents were ghastly selfish too; I recall a nightmare flight home on a plane full of babies and parents. Of course the pressure in the plane was too much for the ears of the little ones, and they hollered and shat and hollered some more. This at least I could understand, they were in pain and no-one could explain why or get rid of it. The parents changed the babies' nappies and the whole plane stank of excrement accompanied by high pitched screams, I was in tears. All I wanted to do was stand in front of each baby and SCREAM incoherently in rage at the pain in my head and the stench all around me, to grab a filthy nappy and rub the faeces all over the faces of the breeding demichimps. It took days for the headache to go away.
This was one of the nastiest physical situations I have ever suffered, and I speak as a woman who has had a naked flame applied to her nipple (Oh NHS, how you have fallen, Daystar!) The two experiences were easily on a par.
So often a happy mum has put her baby in my arms and waited for my melting moment, when I mist over and my eyes soften as I surrender finally saying 'Ooooh. I want one tooooo!' It's never happened, to their mortification. What about sides of the brain and instinctual nurturing, what about chemicals and hormones and oooh Being a Woman? I should care for babies, something deep within should be moving in tenderness cos I'm made that way. It's natural innit?
Afraid not. Nope, no chemicals, no flare ups in the brain, no hormones, no need, no biological clock ticking, no broodiness, no imperative, no interest. I'm a straight white European female human. I'm not an estrogen nexus needing motherhood to provide me with purpose. I'm not saying that this is always the case (having so many brilliant chums who are also great mothers, I would be foolish to make such a claim) but justification is something often refused women except in the great default of motherhood, beloved and approved, society's favoured place for the unfavoured gender. I suspect its potential as a path to false power and pressurised love.
As for babies, well, I am ready to try, as I am with any new acquaintance, but nothing is guaranteed. To me, that being is a person, and they may not like me or vice versa. New in the world, they deserve all the chances they can get. I'll always give what I can, because life is too tough for us not to be kind to one another. But that's as far as it goes.
And incredibly, my breasts are still here, my chin comparatively hairless, my gynie bits all present and correct. XX I am, XX I remain. It gives me possibilities, it doesn't make me goo.
Re: I love this post!
Date: 2009-05-22 08:04 pm (UTC)