Today was my yearly visit to see my dear ole gyno. I actually don't mind going. It's faster than the dentist, and they don't insist on making small talk while they do their business.
Plus, it's just another chance for me to thank God I am not pregnant.
I'm almost 30 now... I keep being told that my biological clock won't tick forever... but I'm left wondering if it ever has or ever will tick at all. I was much more pro-marriage and pro-children when I was teenager... which I guess could explain all the teen pregnancies. They haven't wised up yet. Once you see your friends and family divorce, being unmarried doesn't seem so bad. And once you see your friends lose their bodies, mind, and sanity due to a screaming, crying, pooping baby- it makes being childless not seem so bad.
There was a darling young lady in the waiting room today who had 1 week left before her scheduled c-section (I learned this from eavesdropping. I didn't care enough to ask.) All I felt was pity.
"I'm sorry you won't sleep a solid 8 hours for the next 3 years, at LEAST."
"I'm sorry you're taking on a new, expensive member of the family that will not contribute monetarily until they are grown. And then they'll leave."
"I'm sorry that baby will hate you in 12 years. And I assure they will."
"I'm sorry your baby isn't going to come out weighing 47 pounds and you're going to have lose 40 of that on your own."
Nowhere did I feel envy or joy or feel the need to congratulate her. Babies are a blessing, I know. And I will eat these words one day when I am big and pregnant and posting pictures with numbered weeks on Facebook.
But, thank you again, God, that that day is not today.
