Just in time for my own questioning of my own decision of motherhood, I get surrounded by pregnant women. Now, none of them are actually near me; they all live out of state, but while making the blankets, I am thinking about the babies. Most of these babies come as a joy to their mothers and their families, but as soon as I find out that a woman, any woman, is pregnant, I feel sorry for her. Even women who have wanted a baby for years. My mind races: Wow, you're life is OVER. So much for enjoying life. There goes all privacy. You will have to quit your job to take care of it. Think of all the crap you have to buy for that baby. There go your hormones and your figure.
I don't mean for any of this to be offensive; it's just how I feel. But that primal, evolutionary, maternal urge is still present for me. It does not disappear because I do not like children. That is actually the worst part. I have the biological clock, but the ticking is off. It's like a hormonal dysrhythmia. I love to make the baby blankets, and I make them with love in my heart and my fingers, but I never want to wrap a baby in it.
I have though, come to terms with my personal decision. No, I will not change my mind. No, no one is making me feel guilty for not wanting children. Yes, I am happy with the life that I have without children. Yes, I do feel that I can still make a contribution to the world without sharing my DNA. My contribution will be solidarity, independence, and a multitude of of cozy baby blankets.
Here is an early pic of the one I just finished.
