My mother took a break from telling me about her desire for me to get married and give her grandchildren for a few years. The constant reminders were frequent. “Oh, I’m holding onto your childhood desk to give to my future granddaughter.” “I’m not getting any younger, I would like grandchildren. All of my friends have grandchildren.”
I broke up with my boyfriend a couple of months ago. She was never crazy about him, but with his departure it cemented in her mind that I would never marry or produce offspring.
While watching coverage of the earthquake in Haiti, my mother asked, “Why don’t you adopt an orphan from Haiti?” Not a completely crazy question since I’m adopted. But random, yes. I don’t have time for a dog, so adopting a child right now is out the question.
I’ve had so many guys try to give me dogs, I began to wonder if it was some kind of test. One idiot actually bought a dog, and called me and said I got your present (hint: I knew he had just gone to the flea market). Instead of fake designer jeans or a purse, I knew it was a dog. I said, “I know you didn’t buy me a dog! If so, tell your dog to get ready for a new sibling.” The sadness in his voice made me feel bad. But there was no way I was going to take a dog purchased from a flea market.
So my mom has been reminding me of all the “recent” findings on the reproductive health of women over the age of 30. You know what I’m referring to. The fact that over half of my eggs are gone…
My response was simple. This study was not new. It was just restated to have people remind women over the age of 30 that their reproductive health is in the back of a Camry with the rapidly increasing accelerator. (I joke because my car is on the recall list.) I asked my mom how I should address this, find some random person and fertilize my barely viable eggs or go buy some sperm? She relented and said that she wasn’t suggesting I do either. I told her I was aware of these stats so please back off.