conflict of desire

Night before last, I dreamt that in spite of having my period, I actually was pregnant, and that I didn't know it. In this dream (which seemed pretty real to me) I was carrying twin human babies--a boy and a girl, the same two in the other dream where I met their spirits--and one other creature that was not human--it wasn't even an animal. Of course, the plot of the dream was me with the doctors discussing how even tho I carried three things, technically I only had twins, because the third thing wasn't human, so it didn't count. Furthermore, it was probably best to try and remove this extra "thing" because it would eventually crowd the other two babies. Unfortunately, the doctors said it would put the twins in jeopardy to operate in the second trimester.

Then Will woke me up to take him to work. I told him as I was waking up that I had another dream I was pregnant with twins--he said quietly,

"I hope it comes true."

Will and I seem to have had too much time to think about having children. Yes, we want them now, no we don't, well, whatever... I've had too much time to consider all the implications of pregnancy and labor and child rearing. It's starting to become a fascinating phenomenon as beautiful, mysterious and out-of-my-reach as the moon. Honestly, because of this current difficulty to procreate, I feel removed from humanity.

As I observe parents and children shopping together in the department store where I work on the weekends, I feel like some alien scientist in a human suit observing their behavior. As I drive school bus I marvel at the wonder that these little children survived to be five years old--that they grow to be teen-aged and that eventually many will conceive children of their own. A couple of these kids I taught in preschool when they were two years old. Now, they're seven and have big teeth and take tests.

What I think gnaws at me, is that this is all part of a rhythm of life...and my drum is a dumb stone. I long to be part of this cyclical dance--to be included in the dance of human life--to experience even just once the fulfillment of being a woman--to have life gestate inside my body. What a strange joy that would be! And at the same time, how normal, how natural, how expected, how very ordinary.

There is an interesting gaggle of people who are looking at diseases and maladies of Americans today as symptoms of a culture focused on the wrong stuff. Infertility, diabetes, heart disease, arthritis, digestive issues, osteoporosis, cancer--if we compare our society to a body, we would very easily see that whatever we are doing to it is killing it. I don't think it's an exaggeration to call our society a "Culture of Death."

I feel like such a statistic. I'm just "one of those women." I have been thinking a great deal about adoption the past couple of weeks, and I feel like I would be just as pleased to raise a child that would otherwise go without parents. But there's a part of me that feels like my own will come to me. For some reason, I just can't shake that hope...and in spite of my hesitation and fears and sense of prudence...I do still hope for them soon.