guest blog: jamie

last but certainly not least, the wonderful jersey queen. or doc. or jam. whichever you prefer. got to know this crazy girl through our mutual obsession with too much television and have totally heart-ed her ever since.  she was my partner in crime (or maybe i was hers?) during our trip to nyc last fall (awh, sad, i just realized we were there at this time last year!!) and again last winter when she came out to see big sky country in all of its dead-in-the-middle-of-february glory.  but hey.  we got to watch community theater, drink wine (a first for me!), eat pizza at the best pizza place on earth, chill in some natural hot springs, and hang with my roommates and parents. maybe big sky isn’t so dead in february!

i will be back tomorrow (i know, i know. boo hiss.) unless i take a long nap. in which case i’ll see you once i’ve got my pictures organized! ciao bellas!

Hi, BSG’s Blogateers! Jamie here, also known as Doc, Jersey Queen, or sweetjamielee/SSJL in some circles. People call me other names, but I don’t respond to those unless I’ve had a really bad day. But most important to YOU is that I’m Rae’s bff and here today for your blogging pleasure!

I’m going to commiserate with you/warn you about a phenomenon I’ve recently discovered.

Ovary twitching. Kid mania. Baby Fever.

The moment when if feels that your uterus has jumped out of your body, wrapped its fallopian tubes around your neck, and screeched “USE ME FOR MY INTENDED PURPOSE.”

While this might seem like a scene from a horror movie, I assure you that it’s quite real. Perhaps a little less dramatic, but no less scary and conflict-filled, especially to those who believed it would never happen to them.

I’m one of those people. I’ve been going to school for going on something like 523 years, and joyfully can now see the light at the end of the tunnel. I complain about it a lot, but the truth is you don’t make it as a professional student unless you love it. My academics and my future profession have always been the primary foci in my life; the learning and discovery and accomplishment bring me so much pleasure. This isn’t to say there aren’t other important things in my life. They just…get worked around school. When I got engaged, I waited four years until I was finished with my doctoral coursework to actually tie the knot. I dragged my sometimes reluctant, but always supportive partner around the country as I went from school to school to internship, settling down unimportant when it was compared to academic ambitions. Sometimes people asked me “are you ever going to get a house and have kids?” The answer was always a distracted “Maybe. Someday.”

Those things flitted in my mind as a distant possibility, but truthfully, they never felt terribly important. As early as last year I was pretty well convinced that I simply wasn’t one of those wedding-and-baby girls; and if the “maybe, someday” never happened, I’d be okay with that. My “baby” was my profession; that’s where I felt called to direct my energy.

The change wasn’t like a lightening bolt, but it was by no means slow, either. The first time I remember feeling different was last Christmas; my cousin brought her then-3 month old baby to our family gathering. I had always thought babies were cute, had enjoyed holding them and playing with them until the fussed or pooped and was happy to give them back.

But this time…I didn’t want to let her go. I marveled at her soft skin, her teeny-tiny toes and hilarious faces. When she cried I wanted to sooth her, and was delighted when I could. When others offered to take her from me, I declined. And when I left…my arms felt empty. I felt…in love.

There was a swift descent after that. I noticed babies everywhere, in the store and on the street and at the airport, and had to make myself stop staring like some sort of crazy baby pervert. I sought out contact with babies I knew and now offered to hold and play with them and change their diapers. I started listening carefully when my friends who are mothers talked about their kids, asking them questions and being truly interested in the response. I started squealing over baby pictures and imagining just what it must be like to have a child not just for a few hours, but 24/7. Not just until you’re tired of it…but the rest of your life.

Recently, after hearing me ecstatically recount my last episode of baby-snorgling, a dear friend accused me: “You want a baby, don’t you?” I opened my mouth to say maybe, someday.

But it didn’t come out. And all I could think of was yes, yes, yes.

Crazily, amazingly, somewhat embarrassingly…a shift occurred inside of me; I don’t know if it’s biology, or age, or the social-psychological impact of seeing people close to me beginning to have and enjoy children. I don’t know if it’s a calling, or mere increase of volume on my biological clock. I don’t know if it’s somehow connected to a deep desire to just be done with school and get on with my life already. All I know is suddenly, it seems important. Important enough to give serious consideration to. Important enough to evaluate my own motivations and desires and fears. Important enough to…change my timetable and my lifestyle?

See, the thing is, my “maybe, somebody” was always connected to the idea that there would be a right time. When I had my doctorate, when I had a good job, when we had our own place, when I was tenured, when we have enough money to feel completely secure.

And now I wonder…is there ever a right time? Is there ever a moment when you feel completely ready, and sure of your ability to cope with parenthood? Is it selfish to think of bringing a child into the world before you know you’re truly ready; or is it foolish to wait for the perfect time, when that perfect time may never come, and then you lose your chance?

And what does it mean that these are the questions that plague my nights, rather than the hypotheses of my dissertation or the other important academic issues that used to make up the majority of my brainspace? Everything else just seems to fade to the background when you are considering bringing another life into the world.

I’m stumped. I’m slightly annoyed, yet awed by the changes taking place in me. They distract me from some of my current goals; but they also make me think more broadly about my life, see myself and others in a different light, and I’ve always valued that. All in all, it’s another of those crazy curve balls life throws at you, just to make sure you’re paying attention.

I’m paying attention now. Thaaanks, life.

So in conclusion…I don’t know anything. This might never happen to you, or it might have already, or it might be lurking there in the corner of your existence like it did for me all these years. But it does seem like we are constantly evolving, even when it feels like we have ourselves finally figured out, so I’d recommend a process of continual self-exploration.

Because if you don’t, your uterus might just do it for you.