On the Topic of my Future Children (or Lack Thereof)
Location
"No kids?" he asked, incredulous
"Aren't you concerned about preserving your lineage?"
I, too, am in disbelief of such a question
Which implies you are more concerned about spreading your seed
About seeing tiny copies of yourself running around
In a bright white picket-fenced world
Rather than seeing the recycled copies of someone else
Forced from one flawed system into another
With slim chances of escaping
But I can't tell you this, I don't wanna be rude
So I claim I'll be too focused on my job to worry about such things
That I can barely take care of the goldfish I won at the fair
That being a mother is something I simply could not do
Neither of which are lies
God knows it's true
And you'll shrug it off and tell your friends
"Oh that's just how she is"
"She's a firecracker"
"She's like a tiger"
But I know it's not true
God knows it's not true
I am no tiger, I am a bear
A mama bear
I am a mother, but also a virgin
But don't compare me to Mary
Don't you dare compare me to someone so brave
Because instead of everyone else my age
Who sees the world in technicolor
With hope and excitment and all that cheesy gunk
I look upon it with fear of what's to come
Of what could afflict any of my dear ones
My beautiful children
That may not have buckled their seatbelts properly
That may not have the proper helmet
Or that I, and I alone, will not be there to catch them when they crumble
Because I have lived through that before
And that is something I simply could not do
Again
I allow them to be stubborn and to release their own firecrackers
And still love them when they slam the door because what if no one else will
But do not think that this is simply for my friends
For my makeshift family
But I extend this concern to the millions of copies I have not met
Or at least not yet
I wish to cradle the suffering who have seeen things I have never dreamt of
Who know things I could never understand
I wish to take them, like a mother her wailing children
And rock them into sleep and peace
And while I myself have never experienced their prejudices or their "isms"
As a middle-class white girl
Hailing from a bright white picket-fenced world
I can feel their cries anyway
And I cannot catch them when they crumble
No real human can
I know this for fact
Because I have lived through that before
And that is something I simply could not do
Again
But there are people who have had to live through that again
And again
And again
And have felt repeatedly what I could not handle the first time
That one day, my hugs won't be enough
That I won't be able to console you without crying myself
That I will lose my patience and my temper
And wonder if it was even worth the trouble
And my greatest fear
As a refused mother
Is that the result of those feelings
Will transfer over to my beautiful children
And that it will cause them to crumble
And I will not be there to catch them
And that is something I simply could not do
Again