I am a believer that life presents you with opportunities and openings when a big conversation needs to happen. I think you can either take the chance when it presents itself, or you will have to force the discussion later.
I’ve done it both ways, and have learned that taking the opportunity when it is presented is always the better bet. It may be awkward, but at least it isn't forced.
Yesterday I took Chatty out to dinner. When I picked her up, the first words out of her mouth were “In health class today we watched a video” she took a long pause here. So long I wasn’t sure if I should say something. Finally she scrunched her face up and said “About labor.”
I could tell that even mentioning it was distressing to her. She was awkward and unsure as any 12 year old would be.
So, I asked if she had any questions. She vehemently shook her head as though that was the worst idea she had ever heard. She didn’t seem to want to talk about the video and all its disturbing information at all, yet she had brought it up.
Was this my opportunity?
I thought fast and decided it must be. It was time to tell Chatty how babies are made in my world.
I started first by trying to explain endometriosis to her. She knew something was wrong with me (we have needed to take a break from our visits after both of my surgeries), but we had never really talked about what.
As soon as I said the words “uterine tissue” though, I knew I had lost her. Try to explain endometriosis to a 12 year old. I am here to tell you it’s not easy!
When I was pretty sure I had thoroughly confused and bored her to death, I dropped the bomb. “So” I said “Because of all this, I’m going to try to get pregnant with a baby this summer.”
Suddenly I had her attention. She thought for a second, and then said “Well… whose going to be the man?”
She may have been completely lost on what endometriosis is, but she didn’t skip a beat when it came to the fact that I am missing a key component for this process to work.
Fantastic.
If I thought explaining endometriosis to a 12 year old was hard, explaining sperm donors and Petri dish babies was almost impossible. I was trying to do it all without getting too technical and also without making her even more uncomfortable than she already was.
I’m pretty sure I failed.
“Wait” She said, stopping me at the point where I was trying to explain how the embryo would be placed back inside of me, “You mean, you’re going to get pregnant without having S-E-X?”
Bingo.
I tried to finish the explanation when she again cut me off to say “That car right there looks just like my friends moms car.”
It was a Ford Taurus. Nothing special about this car at all. It was, instead, the worst subject change ever.
And so, I let the conversation go; sufficiently convinced that I had mutilated my first ever birds and the bees discussion. I was telling myself I would have to pick up some books on the subject before I ever tried to hit on this topic with my own kids.
I was pretty sure I had scarred Chatty for life. I was convinced that I was going to get a call next week from Big Brothers Big Sisters telling me that they would no longer be needing my volunteer services. I thoroughly believed that I had now forever warped this child’s sense of how babies are made.
I was prepared for the rest of the evening to be a bust.
But then we were sitting at dinner and she said “We’re probably going to have to start going out to eat a lot more. You’re going to be hungry. And fat. Whenever my mom gets pregnant, I always know because she starts eating a lot.”
And I laughed. And she laughed. And everything was fine.
I just hope she doesn’t bring this up in health class.
ADSPACE
