And I’m not talking about those women that when I say baby mama, your mind eases on down the road of stereotypes and sees a woman living in the ‘jects, has a several kids from different men and appears on Maury Povich looking for her baby daddy or Judge Mathis talking bout, “he need to take care of his responsibilities.”
I’m talking about those women who are in their mid to late twenties (and sometimes their thirties), have degrees, work “good” jobs, are climbing career ladders, buying houses, etc. It could be your homegirl, your office mate, the chick who sits next to you in church, who one day tells you, “yeah girl. I’m pregnant.” And you be like, in an offhanded kinda way, “really? I didn’t know you were seeing anyone serious.” And you learn that it’s from some random nig who work at Safeway or Kenny shoes or something.* Heh.
And while you sit there eating your sandwich, trying your best not to be judgmental to her face, you can’t help but wonder, has she not heard of these things called condoms? And does she really want to be attached to a random nig for the rest of her life? And then you wonder, if she has heard of condoms and other forms of birth control, was she just on f-it status? Did she just figure that since no one had put a ring on it, but she already had everything else in life, the next logical step was having a baby?
But you can’t say that to people cause that would hurt their feelings – but I wonder as I wander and observe this chasm of have and have nots (kids) widen - I think that maybe I should just go ahead and have a baby by a random nig. I mean everybody else is doing it. Riiight? Right. Maybe I should just throw caution to the wind, hit up a happy hour, chat up some dude, and say, “I want you to be my baby faver.” Not tonight. You can take me out a few times first. Maybe we can make a baby like 6 months into the relationship when we're just starting to dislike each other. Maybe that’s when I’ll drop those infamous words, that will change both our lives, “I’m pregnant. And it’s yours.” But see I don’t think I could ever do that. That’s not me. I have no desire to take up the armor that is single motherhood. I'm not into being a martyr. Or being someone's mama and daddy. Or having theme songs
But can I just get on my soap box for two seconds and say from this single with no kids perspective – I just don’t think it’s fair that you can pop out a baby by someone, not remain committed to that person, and then jump yo’ happy ass back into my dating pool. Now I gotta “compete” with you and I have to take your “used” goods who wants to show me pictures of his 2 year old daughter on his phone. No thank you, sir. But then reality sets in, and I have to accept the world we live in and the fact that I might one day be in some Melanie/Derwin/Janae situation (sorry they’ve been playing reruns of the Game these past few nights) and not be able to give my husband his first born child.
And maybe I’m being whiny. And maybe I’m being mean. Or judgmental. But the good pastor Amaretto quoted on Tuesday, also said in that same sermon that this type of behavior is bringing something permanent into what was supposed to be a temporary situation. And I wonder – do people really know what that means?
Do you know what it means to go to a back to school night in an inner city and see nothing but mamas? And just a handful of daddies. To hear too many Black children openly wish for their fathers in their lives? Do you know what it means to have a baby with someone you don’t know, or barely know, or kinda like but still not know anything about? Do you know what it’s like to have to answer your child's question of how their parents met? Or what did you like most about my mother? Or how come y’all married? Or what diseases run on the other side of my family? To not be totally sure if the person you laid down and made a baby with is crazy? And to not have a big mama who can look that nygga in the eye and be like, "who yo' people?"
And do you know what it’s like to be on the other side of it all? To feel like you’re one of the last few Black women without kids? To be a woman who wants with all her heart to be somebody’s mommy, who’s getting older, whose eggs are dropping and not being put to use cause she is still clinging to that notion of first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage? Do you know what it’s like to feel like you’re on a losing team? To feel like things are starting to look bleak - simply cause you're clinging to your respective beliefs, morals, values, etc., etc.
To wonder if you're still unmarried and without kids at 50- was all that clinging to principle worth it? Will it matter that you held firm to what you believed? Or will your heart just ache for a child of your own? Will you wish that you had just made a baby with that nig who was good enough? Will you wish that you had made other arrangements? Other plans?
That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!