I’m not sure exactly when it started, but over the past two years the universe began to put pregnant women around me. It started with family friends, then friends of friends. Then it was the regular guests in my air art studio. When I picked it up with my acupuncturist, she saw me a meaningful look.
“If you think the universe is trying to tell you something, you might want to listen,” she said. Hmm, maybeI thought. Not even five minutes later did she knock on some needles in the tops on my feet. The little pain that beamed from the dots felt like a stamp from the universe – I had worked with My acupuncturist long enough to know what that feeling meant. Sure enough when I checked my Bicycle trackI was dead in the middle of my Ovulation phase. It seemed as if the universe really wanted to chat with me about having a child, and after shooting off the conversation for as long as I could, it seemed as if I couldn’t avoid it anymore.
Perhaps because of Age gap Between my husband and me we have had dozens of conversations about having children, but we have never been able to settle on a “yes” or “no.” It is a necessary conversation in all circumstances, but especially in a relationship where one party begins the 40s, and the other party is about to end the 20th century.
He may be completely satisfied with having children or remain child -free. I always assumed that I would eventually like to have children, but when I have become older I have found myself question whether children are what I really want. I have had phases where I really could imagine having a child, and phases there having a child couldn’t be less appealing. Every time I cycle through these phases, I struggle to analyze what my motivation can be to have a child – I do not feel as if my family is incomplete and I do not want a child to fix any kind of personal luggage that I have. I am prone to depressive sections, struggle to deal with my anxiety, and I have inherited (or maybe internalized) many anger problems from my parents. I don’t want to forward these things. In the end, the magical feeling of simply wanting to have a child has never come, and it makes me worry that I may not have an innate mother’s instinct or that I have not met a maturity point that is supposed to trigger the desire for children.
In fact, it is not a kind of mothers affinity or love for infants who have made me interested in children – it is the fear of loss. My husband and I love each other so much, but our age gap means that we are facing reality that we can have less time together than other couples. The idea that he can pass before I do, and everything I love about him will end with him, fill me with fear. If we had a child, I would at least have some of him in the world with me.
I think a child would bring me closer to Chinese culture.
And with every year that goes, I realize how I feel less linked to my Chinese roots. When I was growing up, Chinese was built into my daily life-mine parents cooked Chinese food, we spoke Mandarin at home and we always celebrated Chinese festivals with friends. But living away from my parents means that the connection to Chinese culture has been more difficult to maintain. Cooking Chinese food can be a time -consuming process, and it is easier and faster for me to make pasta or steak. My husband is Chinese, but he does not speak any Mandarin or Cantonese, so there is no way at home to keep my mandari skills sharp. We also celebrate Chinese holidays less often. Lunar New Year is the only Chinese holiday I still celebrate, and I don’t know how to make the festive foods I grew up with eating. I don’t even wear jade anymore, after a childhood spent wearing a jade pendant carved in my Chinese zodiac sign. For several years I wore a jade pendant, carved in the form of a pig, on a red string for luck. Characterized as grounded, loyal and lightweight pigs are also symbolic of luck and wealth. My parents wanted to strengthen these connections to happiness and made it a point to find more objects of gris theme to take home.
I think a child would bring me closer to the Chinese culture, and the idea that I may never have the opportunity to continue any Chinese traditions feel uncomfortably permanent. When I have taken up these fears with my acupuncturist, she tells me that everything is impermanent, and that fear-based decision-making will never give me the confidence I actually seek. It is ironic when she puts it that way: fear is what draws my interest in children, and fear is also what shoots me away from motherhood.
The fear that shoots me away from motherhood is the fear of motherhood itself. Would I even be a good mom? My husband thinks I would be an amazing mom. But I’m not sure I agree. I’m worried that I’m too selfish – I like to be able to go to the gym without worrying about if a child needs me. I like how strong and confident that I feel in my body, after several years of self -supporting my appearance. Above all, I like who I am without a child. I like how I am a caring friend, a loving wife and a fun person. My biggest fear is that motherhood will consume me so full, I will not have anything for anyone else or for myself, and then I become a person I don’t like anymore.
I will let that spirit of intuition guide me as I enter this new zodiac corridor.
I’m not even 30 yet, and my mom is already worried that I’m past my premiere to have a child. In her ideal world I would have become pregnant last year and gave birth to this year. 2025 is The Year of the Snake – a bad compatibility match with someone born during the year of the wild boar, like myself. In Chinese zodiac readings, snakes and pigs are considered deadly enemies, convicted romantic partners and fighting parents and children. But I have come to personally admire snakes: they are characterized as cool, resourceful and enigmatic. In the broader Chinese culture, they represent duality and intuition and are associated with the receiving feminine.
I will let that spirit of intuition guide me as I enter this new Zodiac year, and as my husband and I live closer in line with having a child. So far, my intuition has told me that it is time to make a greater effort to keep in touch with Chinese culture and imagine some Lunar New Year dishes to put a personal spin on a traditional holiday. And maybe, while I fold dumplings with my husband or I light candles to ward off bad spirits, I will imagine showing a child how to squeeze every dumping or dress them in Lucky Red. It is said that dumplings will give wealth and good luck to those who eat them on the Moon New Year. My husband’s family never grew up folding dumplings, so his skills are defined and mine is quite rusty. But I hope that if we had a child, their dumplings would be even better than ours.
Jen Is a Philly-based freelance writer that covers beauty, wellness, mental health, entertainment and more. With five years of experience there is her work in Byrdie, Instyle, Refinery29, Zoe Report and Bustle.
