It is almost my 41st birthday. There is no
way of denying it, I am middle aged. My life has taken a lot of turns I
didn’t expect and didn’t take a few turns I counted on as a young adult.
I am 40. I am a wife. I have been a wife eighteen and a half
years. I’m also a librarian. I’ve worked in libraries since I was
15. I’ve had a degree to go with it since 2002. That I have a
degree in Library Science was a bit of a surprise to me. In my early days
of library work I used to state in interviews that I planned to get a degree as
a way of showing my interest in the field, but I didn’t believe the line
myself. I finally had a boss who encouraged me to pursue the
degree, and there were compelling financial reasons for getting it. Of
late my enthusiasm for my career choice has waned.
What I am not is a mother. This was not an active choice. God in
His wisdom has not blessed us with children. To abuse Job: the Lord gives
and sometimes he doesn’t. Thanks be to God.
The simple fact is I am socially an unusual case. The peers that are my
age mostly have school age children and are rightly busy with all that goes
into that. They are very busy with carting children hither and thither
and I admire their dedication and diligence as parents. It does, however,
leave me in a lonely place. They don’t have time for a friend like me
aside from the odd comment on Facebook. It also becomes challenging to
find things in common to talk about. The lack of children often means
being left out. Elusive are couple friends in the same
circumstance. First you have to realize that they do not make up a large
portion of the population and then without children a couple develops other
interests that are quite diverse making it harder to find friends that you have
much in common with. This is compounded by the fact that Mr. Gaba and I
don’t share a great many hobbies or interests. I’m not
complaining. I am simply stating the facts.
There are other groups: The empty nesters and the newlyweds who haven’t
started a family yet. Relating outside one’s own generation is never
a simple thing. Single girl friends are often more difficult. While
it is easy to find common ground around hobbies or profession, they don’t
understand that I’ve been married for 18 years and that my life is ordered by
what that means. When I explain that I do or don’t do something because
my husband has strong feeling about it one way or the other, they give me funny
looks, like they should be slipping me a phone number for a shelter for
battered and abused women. They simply don’t understand that being a good
wife means obeying your husband and that this is not a burden but a privilege.
Now regarding children themselves: I do not dislike children, and if I
were to find one in my charge, I would be grateful for that child. As an
aside, please don’t ask me if I’ve considered adoption, or inform me that
adoption is an option. It takes every ounce of self-control to keep me
from sarcastically saying, “Really, there is such a thing as adoption? I
will have to look into that. What a novel idea. I think I’ll go
home tonight and introduce that idea to Mr. Gaba.” I’m a talkative
person. If I were working toward adopting a child I would probably never
shut up about it. Along a similar note please do not ask if I’ve been to
a fertility doctor—quite simply, that is none of your business. When you
ask if I have children and I reply, as I often do, “Not so blessed,” take a
hint and drop the subject. It is a bit of a tender one with me. It
is the reason I don’t teach Sunday school, the reason I spend December fighting
depression, and the reason I cry every time I see an infant baptism at
church. Most of my life I am content with the blessings God has given me,
but at times I look at Mr. Gaba, who in my estimation would be a wonderful
father and who so dearly loves children, and I think, “My family is too
small” And yes I have a cat. I like my cat. No, he is not my
baby, nor a baby substitute. He makes the house more welcoming to come
home to and less lonely when I am home and Mr. Gaba is not there.
While we are on the subject of home and work, I spend a lot of my life by
myself. One of the difficult adjustments I’ve had in my current job is
that my office is removed from my co-workers and the public and it is possible
in an eight hour day for me to only speak to one or two people for a few
minutes and then get home and wait for Mr. Gaba to get home. I am
not like my peers who are mothers. My life is filled with too much time
alone, and very little in the way of things to plan, arrange, or look forward
to. This will pass. The children of my peers will grow up and move
out and suddenly their day to day lives will be quite similar to mine.
They may then find need of a friend to hang out with and I will be there.
I’m not writing this asking for sympathy or prayers that God would give
children. I am writing this because it’s been spinning around in my mind
for a while and I thought I’d share.
REG
lhg edited and approved
