I’m far more ant than grasshopper:
• To-do lists,
• My Daily/monthly/yearly planners, and
• Microsoft Outlook
...provide me refuge in an uncertain world.
When nearing my due date with my daughter, I informed my boss that my plan was to go into labor the weekend after I finished my big presentation to the executive team.
And. I. Did.
If you’ve seen the movie Idiocracy, I’m the woman in the opening scene talking about how it would be irresponsible to procreate during a recession.
Why? Oh, I could pretend I have some intellectual objection to scheduled C-sections or inductions, and I’ve heard the arguments about how scheduled deliveries can be detrimental.
But really my objection is more emotional than logical.
Call me brainwashed by a lifetime of chick-flick consumption, but I longed for a “Honey, I think it’s time” moment at 3 AM where we rushed to the hospital with flustered anticipation as the hubby squeezed my hand through contractions.
Which is why I could not deny the psychic cringe I experienced when Apple and Facebook recently announced they would pay for female employees to freeze their eggs as one of their benefits.
My resistance isn’t intellectual.
• I believe companies are entitled to offer the benefits and perks they see fit to attract and retain talent.
• One can easily see the win-win of enticing these no-doubt highly talented women to continue working during their prime years for gaining career traction.
I don’t think this puts us on a Brave New World path as many seem to fear. But there’s a part of me that can’t help but feel sad.
• We exercise great control over when we have them, and once they’re born,
• there’s an almost immediate push to get them sleeping through the night,
• feeding on a predictable schedule, and
• independent enough to separate from Mom when she goes back to work.
Parents desperately solicit help when their babies don’t quickly conform to the convenience paradigm.
• Can’t we ever surrender control?
• Can’t we ever lean in to the wondrous uncertainty of the creation of human life?
• Can’t this one miraculous biological process exist at least partially removed from our Outlook calendars and professional milestones?
Can’t some part of ourselves be primitive?
But I hold on to a romantic notion that some part of creating life be out of our hands, that there should be a line between my corporation and my ovaries.
Maybe I’m misguided in feeling that this is the place.
But as we gain more and more control over the creation and nurturing of life, I find myself wondering what’s left that’s magically and beautifully chaotic.