To Reproduce Or Not Reproduce That Is The Question

The stage of which I am in currently feels daunting in a way but also empowering. I have had weird realizations that I eventually want to be a mother.

Maybe those are not weird realizations, and more or less desires.

I’m not sure why these thoughts have come so full force within these past few months. Maybe because the majority of my friends are with children. Or the fact that I selfishly want to relive being a kid through my offspring.

I know what it takes to be a a bad ass mother. I’m fully capable.

The world just seems to be so scary that it throws me off of the idea of being a mother.

It almost feels pointless to want to be a mother.

I am however a mom to fur babies. 3 cats to be exact. Although they don’t ask for much besides making sure the food bowl is never empty, and my attention of course. I am still mother to them. A mother to my house in which I take care of and make sure is tip top in its shape. (Hope that last bit made you giggle.)

But to be a mother to a child that I created seems much more meaningful. No offense to my fur children and house.

Maybe I’m being selfish thinking this way while the world; which has burned forever, continues todo so. But that’s so doomer of me.

I shouldn’t be hopeless in thinking that creating a family is a bleak idea.

Some people have callings. And maybe mine is to be a mom.

I want to experience life more slowly. Watch someone literally touch grass for the first time. Feeling the air flow with a mini me by my side. Playing in the rain together and being in pure amazement about it.

That childlike curiosity and wonder over simply washing the dishes. How simply beautiful life is.

I want to experience love in the purest form.

Maybe I am selfish. Who knows. I’m willing to reduce desire, and increase sacrifice.

But isn’t that weird that some people tell you life will be so different? As if they are trying to scare you away from the idea.

Like of course life will be different. That’s the point.

You can’t ponder on the same things after children, you can’t go out all night and do god knows what with god knows who.

That’s a given, but I feel like life gets more meaningful with children. Things make sense with children.

Reproducing is in our human nature. It’s what every living thing on this earth has been doing since the dawn of time.

So it being farfetched isn’t something I should even ponder on. I mean I’m 25 years old. My eggs aren’t going to be with me forever. And that thought haunts me.

Why is it a man can have children all the way up till he’s in his 80s-90s, but women are born with all their eggs and then they go through menopause.

There’s something to be said about that.

Sacredness in there somewhere.

I want to experience giving birth to a child. Seeing what my body is truly capable of. Childbirth although seems so very scary is absolutely insane.

We are walking portals, and you’re telling me I can’t use this thing given the state of the world.

No thank you.

This is how human beings stay a float.

This is peak survival.

Creation.