I tried to solve my chicken-guilt by mindlessly creeping on Facebook this afternoon since I was too snuffly to get any productive work done. Facebook didn't help, it just gave me more to think about.
It seems like everyone I know these days is either engaged, married, pregnant, or has a newborn. So, needless to say, FB is filled with new pictures of infants, engagement rings, and wedding pics. Sometimes in that order, too. Today, I've ping-pong'ed back and forth between looking at baby pictures and writing about my biochem thesis where I cloned a gene. Right about now, my CV reads something like this:
"Hello, my name is Saroja. I cloned a novel gene during university but I'm terrified of the idea of meiosis occurring in my uterus."
I will admit though that I've spent some time in the last few months looking at cute baby stuff. I mean, I'm 25. My reproductive years are limited. Sometimes, I fantasize about buying some of the extra cute baby stuff I see. Not because I like babies but because I like the idea of extolling my idea of what is cute and what is not on the blank slate of a child's psyche so that they'll grow up to have exactly the same tastes and interests as me. And also because we already know that I have a problem with impulse buying.
Anyway, I can usually end these fantasies pretty quickly by imagining Penguin finding my hidden shoebox of baby stuff. I picture myself becoming pale and stammering... "My ovaries made me do it, I swear."Because really, up until this point, we've only ever discussed my becoming pregnant as a Worst Case Scenario. That's right, Accidental Pregnancy is filed under A in my binder of Disaster Management Plans. And if you think I'm kidding, I'm not. (As a side note, Penguin is all for the actualization of a future hypothetical child at the appropriate time. I'm the one who's throwing up all the speed bumps to that actualization... frankly, I'm throwing up speed bumps at the actualization of our discussing the actualization of a future hypothetical child, too. Which, frankly, I think is better than throwing up because of morning sickness because pregnancy itself has to be a pretty significant speed bump in life.)
Anyway, there's a none-too-fabled list of Pro's and Con's to having a child that I've been keeping while we navigate through medical school. And no, I won't share it here on the world wide web. I think everyone's decision to have or not to have children is personal - and should probably stay that way for the kids' sakes. And it's not that I'm judging the wonderful people I know for their happiness in life. They are doing a great job of being terrific parents and raising strong, happy, healthy children. Kudos to them.
This post is really just about recording the significant vacillations I have about considering the prospect of future child rearing. The breaking news is that I can admit I like cute baby stuff. I also like blaming my internal organs for making me do crazy things that are out of character for me. And lastly, I like the idea that we could tell my parents that I'm pregnant by presenting them with a bushel of chicken wire. It might take them a few minutes but they'd eventually figure it out. It's an inside joke in my family.
But, let's not forget. The reason I'm sitting around thinking about all this baby stuff is because I was on FB trying to repress the memory of buying a chicken today that was severely under-valued. Why did I buy the chicken? Because I'm sick and I didn't have the energy to go to the ethical butcher and buy a happy chicken and then dress and cook it myself. Why am I sick? Because I'm on my pediatrics rotation. A child gave me their strep throat when they coughed directly in my face while I was trying to look in their throat.
That's right. I'm blaming the kid.
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