On a completely different note, let’s talk about pregnancy and motherhood.
In Plain Truth, Katie Fisher becomes pregnant and silently gives birth to a premature baby even though she’s Amish and unmarried. The next day, the baby is found dead in the barn and flips the whole town upside down.
Her defense attorney and also cousin (although it’s never revealed in what relation), Ellie Hathaway, takes the case rather reluctantly. At 39, she deeply wishes for a child and cannot understand why Katie has allegedly killed hers.
The thought of having children have been swimming in my head for some time now. I am only 19, just finishing high school. I want to study Law, and build a career on that. I want to pursue my career. But I also want to be a mother. Becoming a mother would require a sacrifice on my part, for I will have to give up my work. I don’t believe in the half-half thing. You know, entrusting your child to a day care center and later kindergarten. It’s not that I don’t trust the facilities, I just don’t agree with the principle. If I become a mother, then I sure as heck will raise my children myself. When my youngest is as old as I am now, I will start yet another phase of my life. But until then, I want to be there for them.
For the first time in my life, I saw my body in a nurturing way and not a sexual way. I see my stomach and see a new life growing in. I see the Scheide and Gebärmutter and think of the contemporary house my baby will stay at and the canal he or she will force the way through. I see my breasts and marvel at their ability to give the baby what it wants and needs. My body is a walking and working wonder – I can finally see why pagans believe that a person’s body is sacred, and sex a sacred act. The joining of two sacred bodies can create a lot of things – trust, magick, orgasm and also a new soul to wave a welcome to.
I tell most people that I don’t want to become a mother because it is a dangerous and stressful world to grow up in and because I’m not sure I will be a good mother. (I am, of course, completely leaving out the meeting, loving and marrying the suitable partner and father.) In truth, I am too selfish to give up a part of my planned life to take this detour. Selfish and afraid. What if my children blame me for giving birth to them? What if they are chronically depressed or have other diseases? What if they struggle at school and me telling them grades don’t matter doesn’t make them feel better about themselves? What if they commit suicide because I just wasn’t a good enough mom? What if I’m not as open-minded as I think I am?
It’s funny: the harder my resolve becomes not to have any children, the more convinced I am that I want them.
I’ve had dreams in which I was pregnant, giving birth or holding a baby. In one I was three months along, a teenager, and determined not to have an abortion. In another I neglected my baby and it died. That was horrifying, I cried so much after waking up because I was so shaken by the dream. What if it happens in reality? I know the fear is irrational but what if it isn’t? Another time I had a huge belly and all, loving the child inside it so much, and I woke up and felt hollow because it was not there anymore.
Raging hormones telling me to reproduce? Or heartfelt wishes I am too afraid to commit to?