The Star has an interesting article this morning on the blahs of motherhood. About a year ago, Mel and I decided we wanted kids. We decided I should get inseminated because I’m older and, at the time, I was amenable to the idea. The more we researched it, the more I found myself feeling ambivalent. Insemination is not something you should undertake with ambivalence, unless you have money to burn. We don’t, so I backed out.
About six months ago, Mel started pining to have a baby. I was still ambivalent, but Mel had made up her mind. Along for the ride I went. There’ve been many arguments in the past few months. More than once my less-than-enthused glaze over topics as stimulating as ovulation, implantation, and tiger stripes has been called out.
It’s not that I don’t want to have a child. But, I do have reservations, too. I’m concerned about how it’ll change our lives. Neither Mel nor I want to sacrifice our careers to have children. We’re worried about schooling. (Mel’s more worried than I. No, she’s a nut about it.)
Mel and I have a good, strong relationship. We have Rosie and Carrot. We have a bungalow and money in the bank. We have a good life. Will a child make our life better?