We got a kitten. We find ourselves gazing at her as she sleeps,
interrupting our coos only to say how precious she is. Kittens are
always cute, but, yes, we know what's happening here. We're so obvious.
As eagerly as we soak up little Cleo's affection and admire her
boldness, there's a real anticlimax to "Heather, look! We have a
kitten." I say it sometimes, just to remind myself that something real has happened. We have an
object for our affections. She has toys and doctor's visits and
requires a lot of supervision, and we worry about how she'll fit in. We
tell the other cat and dog that Cleo is their little sister: she just
wants to play with them and that they're still very loved.
Somewhere in the midst of this self-deception, I heard from my mom that
the bookstore where I worked in high school might be closing. I worked
there a little in college, too, but fell out of touch when I dropped out
of college and wanted to disappear. That sense of depression and
isolation wasn't a lot different from what I felt immediately after
Heather's miscarriage: no one could understand and I couldn't stand to
look anyone in the face. It took weeks for me to function after that
second ultrasound, but my medications were in order and there was hope
for the future; when I dropped out of college, I hid out for months,
with uneven medication and total shame about the future I had destroyed.
Heather will tell you that I never got past that, and she's right.
I finished my degree, got a job, got a boyfriend, changed jobs, traded
the boyfriend for a girlfriend, and things have been going steadily
uphill. Still, the sense remains that something was left incomplete,
some potential unrealized, some future left hanging. I'm terrified that
people who knew me beforehand won't be able to see my life now as a
success but only as an anticlimax to my earlier plans.
No matter what Chelsea Handler says about the issue, American culture
hasn't evolved past the evolutionary imperative to reproduce. It's like
there's a checklist, and you're supposed to get married and have kids.
I think people are judged more for just having one kid, honestly, than
for being in an unhappy marriage. There are a lot of couples who are
much happier without kids than the folks with iffy, unsatisfied
marriages and the full complement of offspring, but that box has not
been checked.
It's something tangible, right? It's a Facebook picture. "Look, I have
a baby. I'm a person!" What if the picture from your wedding only
represents a guy who ignores you, or leaves you to do all the chores, or
gets you pregnant and ignores the kids? Heather and I have a terrific
relationship, but we don't have a wedding picture, and there aren't any
baby pictures, either. The American checklist remains unsatisfied.
As we watch little Cleo play with the too-many toys she's accumulated within a week, though, Heather says, "At least we have a baby something!" Sometimes, I guess, it's okay to be obvious if the obvious thing works.
Hope you guys are doing well and things are looking up. I just wanted to check in and say hello. FYI, I am so scared of cats but you guys def picked a cutie ;)
ReplyDeletehey! just curious how you guys are doing... best wishes from Texas!
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