June Renew: Day 25
Weight: 233.4
I love my cat. She’s my baby girl. I adopted her seven years ago and I’m very glad I did. She’s an affectionate little cat. She snuggles up next to me when I’m on the couch, if I’m just sitting writing or taking an after-work catnap. She reaches her paws out after waking up from a nap and will sprawl out when she sees me approach from the safety of her cat tree. I ask her to jump up on my bed as I’m going to sleep and she does, often times staying put until I wake up. When I walk toward her to pick her up, she’ll put both paws up to give me easier access to her underarms and cuddle up so tight as she holds onto my shoulder. I love this little girl. You really couldn’t ask for a better cat.
But she’s a cat. Not a child. And I know the difference, and still want the latter.
I have to take good care of my pet as I would love my baby. I have to make sure she’s fed and cleaned and that she always has a safe space to poop. But it’s not the same thing, and I won’t pretend that it is. The cat is an animal, not a human. And all this talk about babies and life and terminating pregnancies has got me in a bad spot lately.
I saw my extended family today. We all had a little get together mainly so they could see my mom. I hadn’t seen some of them in years. It was good to catch up and a good day with them all. But before I took off for New Jersey, I just couldn’t stop crying. I feel as though I heard my biological clock tick away for the first time ever. Things occurred, which I won’t get into, that made me realize my fertility window is in fact fininte, and it could be on the way to closing quicker than I ever thought.
I look at my cat and am glad to have her, but she doesn’t replace the feeeling I get holding my cousin’s teeny tiny beautiful six-month old baby girl; watching her smile up at me, her eyes taking me in, giving her back all the love and affection the littlest among us deserve. It makes me sad that I’m thirty-six and childless, with seemingly no prospects in sight, even though I think I’m forming the perfect candidate in my mind.
Perhaps I’m just impatient, but it would be nice to at least be on that road to Babyland for once. All I seem to be is stuck at the Sex-Crazed rest stop, because someone threw my keys deep into the nearby woods. And now, the whole world is talking about ending pregnancies. Companies would rather reimburse you for getting one than give you adequate maternity leave. And some insane extremists say that yes, they do in fact want to “kill babies.” There are some hairballs that desperately need hocking up by society if we ever want to be clear about choices again. I guess it was my choice to wait this long to really ramp up my babymaking abilities, but I still have hope that one day the veil will lift. In the meantime, I’m hugging my baby cat close until she can meet the one I help create out of love. I just hope I’m not too late. Why waste any more of my nine lives just sitting around waiting?