On Twitter a few days ago, I likened myself to a spoiled brat of a three year old, stomping my feet and wailing "Why meeee? Not Faaaair!"
And that terribly mature thought brought me up against a hard wall of realization. This may well be the first time in my life I that haven't been able to achieve what I set out to do by dint of hard work and perseverance... perhaps the first time I've needed to confront my motivations and the true strength of my desires.
Am I using my fears and ambivalence about parenthood to paint a child-free future into a rosier picture, just so that I can tell myself it was what I really wanted all along? Is it any wonder that I now doubt myself and my ability to be a good parent, faced with the first major failure of my life?