Thursday 26 November 2015

Over 40

Oh bother, I forgot to have children.  Part 2.

So, as the countdown to 40 began in earnest, so too did the biological clock countdown.  There it was, showing Detonation minus 3.  I think I tried to feel something.  At any rate, I tried to look at a serious decision here, and to feel the sense of urgency.  It was time to think about whether to cut the red wire, the green wire, or just let the damn thing explode.  Because as time went by, there were options if I'd wanted them.  There were men, and it wasn't impossible to contemplate a bit of reproduction along the way.  

But, it transpired, there was no sadness at having been childless and at the prospect of that state continuing, there was no feeling of regret, no empty aching hole of a thing.  In fact, there was mostly just curiosity, and only mild curiosity at that.  Now and then I'd let myself reflect - What would I have been like as a mum?  In fact, the prospect of a somewhat later than average childbirth was alarming.  Imagine having a child who, by the time they approached 18, would have a mum of 65.  I mean, I have every intention of trundling along in this life until I hit a grand old century, so was not anticipating leaving them an orphan at too early an age, but the horror of someone potentially having to take on the role of carer, or at least deal with the kind of issues that brings, even if it's finding another way for care.  That's horrifying.  I'm not selfish enough to think about inflicting that on anyone, let alone someone I love.  

So I didn't cut any wires to see which would neutralise this bomb, and when the big Four Zero came bouncing along, there was no explosion, not even a whimper really.  I suspect the whole thing was a dud and a phoney.  

For what it's worth, I'm not sure what I'd have been like as a mum. I suspect tired all the time.

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