I bought a baby blanket the other day. I brought it home and put in the drawer with the little romper I bought a while back. They're for my imaginary baby. Because I don't have kids. And there aren't any current plans to have kids. Or any future plans, really. But yet, I bought these things. Even though I don't have kids. And they made me cry a little.
I've always said I didn't want kids. And that was always kind of a misleading statement. What it really meant was "I don't think I'll ever have the opportunity to have kids." I spent the majority of my life really believing I would never get married. For a very long time I truly thought that. I was just never that girl, you know? The girl that the guys were interested in, or actually dated much. Or at all. Like, in high school, I was the one guys called to see if I could find out if the girl they liked liked them back, or to find out what the history homework was. Then in college, I packed my days with school and work, kept my head down and just kind of went about life. And tried not to think about the fact that I wasn't actually dating. Or even really trying to date. And I sort of started to think that maybe that was just the life I would have. I'd be on my own. So I went with that, and made myself a life on my own. And I knew that kind of significantly reduced the odds of having kids. But, that was okay. It was. I liked my life. It was good. There were lots of little ones around that I could "borrow," and then they could go back home and I had my nice little life back. I had accepted that. I really thought I had.
Then I met hubby. Who I never expected would appear in my life, but he did, for which I am eternally grateful. And hubby said he didn't want kids. I wasn't planning on having them anyway, so that didn't seem like a big problem. And it wasn't a big problem. But one day I kind of realized that I was now in that situation I never thought I'd find myself in . Married. And it made having kids seem like an option. Not an option I bought up or anything, because I really was fine with not having kids. Really. Then there was a "close call." And for a few hours, there was a real possibility that there could be a baby. Which got everyone thinking. Obviously the close call amounted to nothing, but the thinking didn't stop. The discussions that followed stopped at Now's Not a Good Time But Maybe Someday. Which, again, was fine. It was.
Then my sister had a baby. And that baby looked kind of like me. And all of a sudden, everything I thought was fine wasn't really fine, but just kind of the facade that was hiding the fact that I sort of think it would be kind of cool to be a mom. So I wound up with a romper and a blanket for my non-existent baby. But the thing is, the more time passes, it looks more and more like we won't be having a baby. So I've been working to come to terms with that. Which is funny to me, since I've already come to terms with not having a baby once in my life already. It seems like it shouldn't be so hard to do the second time around.
I guess what it comes to at this point for me is faith. I have this faith in a power greater than myself. And I believe that power has a plan. I don't know the plan. I don't always like the plan. I don't always understand the plan. I just have to trust the plan. Even though that's very hard to do sometimes. And in this case, if Hubby and I are meant to raise a child, then it will happen. And if we are not meant to raise a child, then it won't. And I'm doing my best to know that is what's best. But I'll hold on to the blanket, just in case.