I want a kid. There, I opened up, and said it.
Of course I realise that I’m only 23 and having a baby now would impact my young life massively – but there’s a part of me that doesn’t care.
The thought of having a baby, and the girlfriend that comes with it, appeals to me. It’s no secret that I’m a terribly lonely person as of late, more isolated than ever, and detracted from the world. I think my brain remedies that by dreaming of what could be.
Then there’s my nephew Tyler, and my other yet-to-be-born nephew Jamie. They’ve added a new dimension to my life – and they’re not even my kids! Being around babies and having a hand in their up-bringing (even in my limited capacity) is great.
However, I realise I won’t be having any children for a while.
I don’t have a girlfriend, and even if I met a girl tomorrow we wouldn’t be ‘serious’ for a while – and even then, I think it’d be a good couple of years after that (at least) before the conversation would turn to maybe having kids.
Then even if we do decide (let’s imagine I’m , ooh, late twenties now) there’s the trying. There’s no guaranteed means of getting pregnant, so it could be more years STILL.
At least I’ll be grown up whenever the day comes.
Well, if the day comes.
Yeah, there, I admit it. It’s not a certainty. Might never happen.
I think that’d kill me.
There’s a part of me that realises every day that passes it becomes a fraction less likely I’ll ever have ‘my own’ – but let’s not dwell on that.
I wanna look to the future, imagine the maybe, and hope that one day the maybe becomes something more.