Saturday, March 7, 2009

It's uter-us, Marge, not uter-you

I decided that I was going to try harder to understand other people for Lent. This mostly involves forgiving people who I know, as I have been amazingly unforgiving, but I'm also trying to be more understanding in general. So, while this post is pretty judgemental (hey, we're just ten days in), it is based on an honest question.

I'm putting this thought into writing because it's been bothering me for a really long time:

I do not understand people who need to have biological children.

Is that just me being weird again or do other people feel this way too?

I do know that it's not really my business. And I can understand wanting children.

I even understand wanting biological children because I understand loving somebody so much that you want to create a child together because you're sure that anything you create together will be awesome. But, in the land of unicorns and rainbows where I apparently live, you would also love that person enough to be like, "let's not put you through thousands (or tens of thousands) of dollars worth of uncomfortable-at-best and dangerous-at-worst fertility treatments that may or may not work."

Personally, I would not want to stay married to someone who was pushing me to go through any unnecessary medical procedures.* He wouldn't want to stay married to me, either, so I guess that's win-win. It depresses me, though, that you'd marry someone who needs biological children so badly that your only options would be unnecessary medical procedure or divorce. I think that I deserve better. I think that everyone deserves better.

Incidentally, the church is opposed to both divorce and fertility treatments, so, from a religious standpoint, what are you supposed to do in that situation anyway?

But I'm being really sexist in assuming that women don't choose to go through these treatments of their own accord. Tons of women do. I can't even begin to understand them.

Adoption has financial strain and disappointment, too, but it doesn't affect your physical health. I suppose that's where I draw the line.

Other people draw the line somewhere else, and they have the right to do that. I just don't get it. Is it biological? Social? Do I have low self-esteem because I don't feel that I need to be copied?


* So it occurs to me that at some point I should discuss this with potential suitors. Third date seems reasonable. Over dinner I'll just be like "so if we get married and it turns out that I can't have children I have no intention of doing anything about that. Also, the bump on my nose is here to stay."**

** This footnote is intended to be humorous, but it is also based on an honest question. How does one bring that up? Or should I just stop trying to interact with people because they will never live up to my standards?***

*** ...which would be exactly the opposite of what I'm trying to do here. Obviously, I have got a ways to go.

4 comments:

vicmarcam said...

I don't think I've ever met a man who wanted a woman to go through fertility treatments. My experience has been that it is the woman who makes that choice. Ask around and I think you'll find I'm right.
I had strong feelings in that I wanted to give birth. I believe nature wires a lot of us for that, so I would say it is biological. But a little clone of me wasn't what I was looking for. I just wanted to carry a child to term.
I like your Lent idea. I hope you'll write about how it goes.

Unknown said...

It's good that that wasn't what you were looking for, since it's definitely not what you ended up with.

Unfortunately, I have at least heard of a couple men who insisted on biological children, though I haven't heard of any marriages ending over it (yet). Unless you count "Dogma," but that was a movie, not real life. Is it biological in their case too? And what should one do in that situation?

But the actual catalyst for the post was a blog I was reading written by a woman my age who was undergoing fertility treatments. The whole treatment-disappointment cycle and the way she writes about it is really sad. But instead of thinking "aww, I hope it works out for her" I found myself thinking "why doesn't she just get over it?" And then I felt bad for thinking that, but the thought still hasn't really gone away.

Hardest Lent ever. Seriously.

Patrick J. Vaz said...

The men you mention who insisted on biological children -- is Henry VIII one of them?

There's probably some deep primitive biological urge in both sexes to pass on one's genetic material, but, as you note, get over it. I wonder how those people manage the next twenty years or so after they've finally given birth. . . .

vicmarcam said...

About your question, "What would you do in that case?"--I can't imagine that a woman wouldn't figure that out before a relationship got serious. At least with people that I know, it would come out in an ego that I'd want to steer clear of. And as far as when to bring it up, it actually seems natural to bring it up at the same time as the "do you want to have children?" conversation, which I would assume a couple would have as things were becoming more serious.

I used to think that men had a biological need to pass along their genes, but the more I think about it, the more I doubt it. Millions of years of human evolution have caused us to definitely have family units, where a father joins in the care of his children, but it has not created any way for a father to be sure that the children he loves are actually his. I'm always touched by how quickly and easily men seem to be able to love and protect children who aren't biologically theirs.

And even though I definitely did not end up with any clones of me, and I'm thankful for that, I have to say that it is somehow amazing and miraculous to see a glance, a walk, even a piece of handwriting that so clearly came from nature and not nurture.

Since, you're trying to understand people, I can tell you that wanting to give birth is the strongest urge I've ever had, second only to wanting children. So, that is what the woman in the article was going through. That being said, though, there is something very American about thinking that just because you have a strong urge for something, you should do everything you can to make it happen.

Oh, I seriously believe that this is the hardest Lent ever. That's why it is an admirable thing to do. The beauty of 40 days is that it is short enough to make a light at the end of the tunnel, but it's long enough to have lasting impact.

Could you try to understand that your mother wants another post about Egypt while you're at it?