Friday, April 15, 2011

Nightmare?

For the longest time, whenever someone would ask me how many children I wanted to have, I would scoff and joke about how much of a wreck I'd be as a mother. It's always just been a given that I would never reproduce. I'm sure a part of it was just my natural reluctance to do what everyone expects me to do (I'm so original, right?), but a larger aspect of my fear of parenthood has to do with heredity and genetics.

When I turned 11, I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. I was informed of all the possible complications and horrors that go along with the condition. One thing I didn't really worry about at age 11 was the very real possibility that I could pass diabetes on to my children. It's not the most terrible disease out there, and I'm actually doing pretty well with it (seizure-free for almost a year!), but it's still not something I would want to risk passing on.

Another genetic opposite-of-jackpot I scored was depression and anxiety (the "Fraternal Twins of Mental Illness" or something like that). Though I'm dealing with them well enough (I suppose), they're still a bitch. My brother and sister seem to have lucked out and avoided the worst of it (thank god) it's still scary to think that if I were to procreate, my children may spend their young years being as emo as I am. Then there's the terrifying thought that I'll be a nightmare as a mother (rather than having nightmares where I am one) and cause the mental disorders that haunt their childhoods.

As you can see, I've always viewed reproduction as a risky affair (and that's not even considering the horror of birth and pregnancy). I've had nightmares about being a mother, being pregnant, having my child switched with another, and many other variations of Mommie Dearest. But last night, I had one that kind of confused me. I was the mother of an adorable little toddler named Colm (yes, from Bad Machinery). He was so sweet. When I woke up, I actually missed him. I still miss him.

I think I want to be a mother. Obviously not right now, but in the future, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Well, guys, how about it? How scary is the thought of two more little mes running around out there? By the way, I keep referring to them as "them" because I would never want only one kid. Growing up with siblings was fantastic, even when I didn't think it was.

I guess opinions change. How creepy, eh? Children, I mean. Case in point, Japanese cinema.

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