The Biological Clock

I am feeling a bit tipsy as I am writing this so who knows how it will turn out. I decided I would "log" my moments of unhappiness in order to accurately calculate just how often I am unhappy. It turns out that, so far, today I have only had one moment where unhappiness crept into my mood. It's still early yet.

I was at Buddies, where I work a second job waiting tables, and I saw a couple come into the restaurant. The man was holding a little girl around the age of two, I would presume. She was fast asleep, safe and nestled in his neck. Instantly I felt the lump forming in my throat, the tightness in my chest, the burning in my eyes as they began to well up with tears. The waitress standing next to me, surprised, said: "What's the matter?" "I want one of those", I said. She seemed a bit confused. I am sure she was wondering what "one of those" meant, as to be expected. I get along incredibly well with all the servers, but at the same time don't relate to them. Give or take a couple, the majority of them are in their early twenties, with "acceptable-for-the-time-being" boyfriends. So she naturally hadn't a clue what I could possibly be talking about. It's ok, not many people do. It is called a biological clock. They say it ticks. I call it a very real, and often overwhelming, want and need. And I say it hurts. I don't know how to describe it any other way. A constant pain or pang in my heart that I fear will never be fullfilled.

The feeling subsided. It eventually does. But the thought is always there. It doesn't help that, in my life, I am surrounded by children. My sister has three boys, fraternal four year old twins and a three year old. I have two very close girl friends who have young children as well. One has a four year old boy and a girl who is almost two. And another friend who has a little girl who just turned one. It doesn't help that all of these children love me. People have always said that "children love me" and "I have a way with kids". It is true.

I also have a little sister from Big Brother Big Sister. She was supposed to be a little sister and I was supposed to spend about an hour or two a week with her. In reality, she is like a surrogate daughter and I usually spend anywhere between 5-12 hrs a week with her depending on whether or not she spends the night. I don't know how to do anything in moderation. I used to think that maybe God put so many wonderful and beautiful children in my life because he knew it wasn't in my plan to have my own. Over time, with the help of my friends and family, I have done what I can to let that thought go and opt for hope instead. Hope. It drifts in and out of my life. Today, it prevails. For a moment, just a moment, I could picture it. Maybe a stroll in the park. He and I are hand in hand, the birds are chirping under the clear blue sky, and she, our beautiful baby girl, is asleep in his arms, safe and nestled in his neck. Who knows where my attempt at hope will be tomorrow.