wedding road trip

No Children

My name is Jaime and I have a broken biological clock. Even though I’ve passed the thirty-year mark, I still don’t have a deeply-rooted, primal desire to pop out a baby. Problem is, if I don’t have a child within a relatively short window (short being under ten years) the decision will be made for me. If the Wedding Road Trip fairy could grant me anything, I’d ask for ten more years of my twenties in which Chris and I can frolic through the fields and fly around the world without worrying about nap time and baby wipes.

I’d like to say that going on this Wedding Road Trip has inspired me to rush home, close my eyes, spread my thighs, and think of babies. But it hasn’t. Instead, it has done quite the opposite. Don’t get me wrong: it’s not like our friends and family members have children that resemble Satan’s earthly army. Quite the opposite, in fact. But after seeing several families who haven’t been on a vacation in years, parents who don’t have sex because they are too tired, and sleep schedules that remind me of cramming for tests in college, I can’t say I’m finding the idea the least bit attractive. Sure, there are babies out there like Alexa and children like Addy, but that doesn’t insure that our child won’t turn out like Veruca Salt- the Willy Wonka girl, not the band.

In some ways, I feel pressured to have children because my older brother and his wife have opted out and it will be several years before my younger brother and his wife start making mini Gregamels. Plus, who will I have around to play my reindeer games when Chris gets sick of taking road trips around the country?

At this point, all I can hope for is a morning when I wake up with the desire to carry a large melon in my stomach for nine months.

Hey, it could happen.