Heavy thoughts

We talk about having children. Between Husby's head condition and depressed libido thanks to the meds he's on, the attempts to pull this off have been few and far between this year; and I ain't getting any younger, turned 41 this month. I could write a whole ugly, deeply private post about how my libido natually skyrockets when his is in the basement, but this ain't about that.

I've been thinking lately about the responsibilities of having animals on a farm, from the first dog to the flock of sheep.

My very first pet was Jordan, a cat I adopted back in 1997. We didn't have any pets growing up, so I never got to witness the work or money that goes into them. He was 2 years old at the time, and a fairly happy critter, such a sweetie...even Dad liked him, called him aloof. Around age 10, he started having a depressed appetite, and the vet visits showed nothing out of the ordinary, so we just nursed him best we could, feeding him a diet of mainly canned chicken. I still don't know why his blood sugar issues weren't caught earlier by the vets. By the time we realized he'd gone diabetic, it was too late...the neuropathy had killed his back legs, and nursing him back to health through veterinary means would've cost at least $1K (and still may not have worked), which we naturally didn't have laying around under the mattress. We made the very hard, terribly pragmatic decision to euthanize him at age 12. It was only 6 months after I'd lost Dad, and the guilt and sadness were quite hard. (I'd like to thank Timbaland for putting out his single "It's Too Late to Apologize" around the same time...bastard.)

So I vowed to myself that I wouldn't own any more animals until I was certain we could afford them financially. It's a tough thing to pull off sometimes, when we can barely keep cat food in the bowl or tires on the car, but luckily our current cat Figaro is healthy and completely an indoor cat, thus not susceptible to a lot of the conditions that plague your average feline.

So when I think about the farm and make my lists and project budgets, it's with this in mind. But I've still been pushing, pushing, pushing toward us having a child with no real thought to how desperately important it is to have that same mindset. We live on cunning and love basically, and as much as I ache with the thought of not bringing a small one into this world, I also need to recognize how incredibly, desperately hard it would be to keep us in clean clothes and food, never mind the animals (they don't need clothes, but you know what I mean), if a child were in the picture. Certainly there are plenty of factors to consider...I won't always have this job, I could be making better money down the road, Husby's sitch could improve enough for him to take part-time work...but banking on those scenarios is irresponsible.

The realization that I don't want to have animals if we can't afford them, but that I have no problem bringing a child into the world in our situation...it's painfully backwards. No matter how much love you splash onto a child, there's so much more that goes into raising one. How can I be responsible about my decisions regarding raising animals, and not take the same thoughts into consideration about raising a small human?

My friend D posed the question recently about whether it's worth it to have a child when you have to work full-time to support it, because your time with said child is so depleted...I didn't understand the question, because I think the opportunity to bring any child into the world is this amazing gift that surpasses all arguments. Still do, and I don't buy her posit. But I find I'm having trouble justifying the argument of "of course, we'll just make it happen, whatever it takes," because it's solely based on the fact that we've gotten by so far...because when you have a child, you have to do so very much more than just "get by."

I ache hard with this realization. It's an ache of the time we've lost, and the time that's so quickly slipping away...I could be making good money 2 years from now and have my ovaries quit, or I could be making less money and get pregnant...either way, we'd make it work. But I'm recognizing finally that I need to step back, concentrate on getting healthy and getting us the hell out of Florida and up to the Carolinas, so we can stop living like friggin' hobbits. If the gods want us to have a child, it will happen; but it's also time to be more responsible about the whole decision and quit trying so hard. It only makes me feel frustrated, makes Husby feel inadequate, and we damn sure can't afford another mouth to feed right now anyway.

I think I'm giving this decision to the gods for a while. May they help determine what's best for our little family, while I work hard to shape this dream.