Another crop of babies coming up. It's funny how these things come in cycles: first the marriages, then the first little ones (draft picks to be named I often call them), then the seconds. Of course it's the natural progression of things.
I've never felt part of this cycle - never wanted to wear the white dress, never wanted to be contractually obligated "to have and to hold." Never saw myself going through a pregnancy or giving birth. In fact, mere thoughts of having my sleep interrupted by a damn baby get me feeling heart-racingly resentful. That's not to say that I hate children. In fact, I do love them and really enjoy spending time with them - especially with my girlfriends' little ones. I just can't see me breeding is all.
My landlord's wife is pregnant. The due date is sometime in November, I believe. She's always been gorgeous, but now has an almost Botticelli-like radiance about her. I get the impression, too, that things are going along pretty smoothly. (Goodness, I hope so.) Recently, while doing laundry, I came across her stuff in the dryer. Rather than just pile it somewhere, I did what the scullery maid in me said and folded it up. While doing so, I noted how pretty and affordable a lot of the maternity wear has become. Really nice, really fashionable. I thought about how nice some of the things would look on me, even (she and I have similar coloring - pale, freckly, reddish hair). All of a sudden, I felt the tears start. Next thing I knew, I lost control and found myself crying like I hadn't in years. God, I hope it's not that infamous "biological timeclock" in action.