This was a huge bone of contention with BBot. It seems to be a hue deal for most guys that I’ve met. Granted, women also say things like ohhh but don’t you want to have your OWN baby, and be pregnant and feel that BOND, or, when you meet the *right* guy you’ll want to have his babies, but men respond on this visceral level that seems immune to logic.
For example, there are women who are infertile, in a way that could possibly be cured with months of hormone treatment, but that treatment is a BITCH. She doesn’t want to put herself and her body through that. But guys expect that she should. That’s the amazing thing. There is a sense of entitlement to your partner incubating, birthing and feeding your baby,. whether she wants to or not. It’s true that most women want to, which is fine, but some, like me, don’t. Then what? A man can share all the caring for a baby (cept the breastfeeding, quite is quite traumatic), but he can’t share the needing to throw up every second for months, or the peeing, and all the things that can go wrong. So where is the justice in demanding this?
Guys are so fixated on having their own genetic child – evolutionary imperative if you will – that once even told me he’d use a surrogate, but that of course violates the pint about not needing to bring more children into the world.
It helps that in my family, I have an adopted niece whose parents managed to have a son after they adopted her. She is the most captivating thing I have ever seen (barring her Ladyship of course), and her brother…is…um…not captivating. Clearly our genes aren’t all that sparkly.
This is how I have felt for at least ten years, and heaven’s the arguments I have had about it. People always say, have one adopt the second. It just won’t work. One parent will favour one over the other, and while parents always do that, there will be a very real cause of pain here. Then, also, which first? Adopt or birth? Some people say that they can’t imagine bonding with a child not their own; some day they can’t imagine adopting a child and bonding with it without having gone through the whole pregnancy with it’s attached misery – sort of like listen I survived that so I’m bloody well going to get past these first three months of madness!
The weird thing is that, lately, as her Ladyship grows and becomes more and more like me, or so Amma sez, I am seized by the curiosity – will my kid turn out like Scoo? Or will s/he be like her Ladyship? Will s/he be madly scientific like everyone in the family? Will s/he be artistic like Acrosticus and his brother? And so on. For the first time, I might actually be considering having my own child. Spooky.