I celebrated my birthday last month and my daughters will be celebrating birthdays in the next couple of weeks. My youngest will be a teenager. Normally, I am not one of those people that get all worked up over turning another year older. Except for a few mile stones, I celebrate my age and the hopeful wisdom that comes with it. However, this year as I slide into my mid forties, I am a little squeamish. I realized the other day as I was holding my niece's baby that my baby making years are coming to an end. Mostly by choice but a little by the circle of life.
Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the freedom of being baby-less and having more time to spend on my husband or me. I don't necessarily have the desire to become pregnant or have another child. But I do miss the nurturing focus that an infant craves. My girls are frustrated by the attention and/or focus that I am thrusting upon them. Just yesterday, my daughter suggested I get a hobby or something as I was attempting to help her organize her room and fix a teen girl drama.
The rational side of me is willing to admit that this loud ticking of biological clock may have less to do with my need to procreate than my teenage girls preparing to leave the nest. I think I can reconcile with becoming a crone, I don't think I am prepared to reconcile with not being needed. An infant needs you and has no choice but to count on you for survival but a teenager can take you or leave you. Darn little darlings are ticking bombs of maturity and created the fuse.
By the way, anyone know how to get this ticking out of your head? Tick, tock.