Dear A,
I've been having weird dreams about babies.
Last night, I dreamed I had a baby, but it was very, very small... so small that it could fit in the palm of my hand. I knew that the baby was sick, and it kept getting smaller and smaller no matter what I did. I tried to feed it, but its mouth was so small I couldn't get any food in. I remember running around the halls of a really big house frantically trying to find some way to keep the baby alive, all the while knowing that it was going to die.
Isn't that a terrible dream?
I think all the time about what it will be like to have children ... to see myself reflected in another being. I wonder what it will be like to be called Mom. I wonder who they will become ... and I wonder who they will make me become. Is it strange that I love them already, and they don't even exist yet?
I know I won't get to meet them for quite some time, but I can't wait until I do.
I think that, deep down, the reason why I'm working so hard for what I want and why I'm so intent on being happy however I end up, is because I want the absolute best for my future family. I want to do right by the people who are going to depend on me.
My parents didn't end up being the best example of commitment, but they gave me the most perfect childhood. I got to travel, live in a beautiful city, and most importantly, I got to be whoever I wanted. I want to give my children those same privileges. So, for the next three weeks, while I'm killing myself with final projects, evaluations and late, late nights, I'm not going to think about myself and how tired I am, I'm going to think about what I'm really doing all of this for.
Love, M
No comments:
Post a Comment