So lets get this straight.
I like kids, I always have. But I never could see myself as someone’s mum. Don’t ask me why, I just can’t. I’d either be a super paranoid one or a super cool one bordering deviant parenting.
The fun aunt! That’s the kinda figure I’d be good at!
Anywho. Something really strange happened to me during the ward round at Ward 9 today, Ward 9 being the maternity department.
For those who don’t really know what or where I work/study at, I’m based at Mid-Staffordshire hospital in the shit hole that is Stafford. Alright, so maybe it isn’t that bad. Keele certainly is a lovely university campus. I wish I had more time on campus than I did on the clinical sites but oh well.
Back to what happened at ward 9!
I was standing by a woman who was fretting about her jaundiced 2 day old baby. He had had phototherapy the night before and the team in charge were wondering if he should continue to be on phototherapy awaiting his blood bilirubin levels. Fretting Mum held the kid close and my mind wandered as the consultant went to wash his hands before examining the bubba…
I was in a hospital bed. I looked different, old and (this was probably my subconscious kicking in) a lot hotter. In my arms, I had, I kid you not, a baby.
It was mine.
I feel myself squirming just recalling this. I remember having to breastfeed the tiny human in my arms. I also remember turning to my husband (oh yes, Mr Dream Husband was back!) and going,
“This feels disturbingly strange,”
I snapped outta it quickly enough, shook my head and pretended to be interested in how my consultant was working on reassuring a fretful mum.
I feel my body consciously trying to reject any attempt at keeping in tune with the biological clock that appears to affect women. I have no desire to have my vagina ripped apart and spend the next 6 years of my life under house arrest. I would most certainly like to travel for quite a bit and not have to take a bloody hiatus.
But somewhere in me, there must be a subconscious desire to want to experience being a mum. Otherwise, why would I have such a horrendous daydream? I certainly don’t desire it now!
I’m chalking it down to some biological evolutionary desire to procreate. My effective current and sane desire is to want to maintain all my lady bits and enjoy my freedom, thank you very much.
I will borrow someone else’s kids should I need the laughter and merriment only kids can bring in my life and give them back when I want my life back.
Or when a diaper needs changing.
