I got married at thirty-nine.
I spent forty pregnant, then lactating.
I eased back to just lactating at forty-one, sometimes pumping. I have decided that men should lactate for their offspring if women have to carry the child.
My epiphany on God: I realized that God is a man because there is no equal division of labor in producing children. Although it could be argued, after observing my husband once haphazardly change the diaper of his very own offspring (and with whom one would think he’d take a vested interest) , that perhaps God is a woman because she wants the human race to survive.
Men lactating would change the whole perception of pumping at work and surely make it more accepted without all the drama of finding an empty conference room every day, 3x a day instead of using the women’s bathroom to pump.
There are some things that should be done with out the accompaniment of other women performing bodily functions – sound or smell. Producing my child’s next meal is one of them. Shocking concept, I know.
You know, I did this whole produce and nurture thing once before at thirty-three and about 80lbs heavier, but I don’t recall it being such a physical effort to grow a life. She’s now eight years old, knows everything, which is a relief since I now realize that I know very little and am pretty much content with my ignorance.
This forty year pregnancy kicked my ass. Literally.
My ass hurt every time I sat down. My feet hurt when I stood. So, I worked from a prone position the last 7 months of the last pregnancy. It didn’t suck too much to work that way (computer job, what else?) and I lost fifteen pounds in the process on the nausea diet.
I’m approaching forty-two now, getting ready to celebrate the two year anniversary with the much-younger spouse and am contemplating popping out a 3rd child. (He travels a lot for work and comes in for the all-important conjugal visits, or there’d be a riot on my side of the house.)
Yeah, the hormones definately kick in around the late 30s. It’s probably what got me in the family way at forty now that I think about it…
Still, it’s the single mom show around here most of the time until the hubby’s job goes perm and he can again steadily cohabitate with the ones who love him (cue me n the kiddos), so adding another member to the family would definately make life “interesting” for me.
Let’s see what the gods decide. I’m not doing anything for or against at this point. Too tired to make the effort.
All I know is that it won’t be this month, timing is off for the hubby’s visit this weekend.
Just finishing my cycle, and no dearest, I am not talking about a bicycle ride. He finally asked what I meant by “cycle” today — after two years of marriage. Glad to see communication is at the forefront of this relationship, yeehaw!
Happy Anniversary Pulli.