My Children

Today, apropos of nothing, one of my students said, "Ms. _____, you need to have a baby."  This alone was almost like someone sliding a piece of redhot wire into me slowly, but I knew there was a logic in that statement somewhere.  It was not intended to cause me pain, and there was no way she could know.  I dragged up a smile from somewhere, and said, "Umm-hmm.  Um.  Why?"

"Because you'd make a good mama.  Your kid would be interesting.  You would make sure they would read and learn stuff.  They'd be really smart."

I grinned. (I was dying a little inside. God, how can something be so funny and painful and sweet all at the same time?  One soul should not be asked to bend in that many directions at one time.  It hurts.)

"I think you're overestimating me..."

"No.  I'd want her to, like, be my friend."

"Okay.  Fine by me."

"Can I give her a name?"

"Sure."

"I'm going to call her Sarah.  She's my imaginary friend.  We'd hang out and stuff.  We'd be friends."

Stab.  Stab.  Stab.  My heart has so many damn wounds these days, it's almost all scar tissue.

They ask me all the time why I don't have kids, tell me that I need children.  God.  Soon, I might have that most definitive of all the answers for them for that question, and then what am I going to do with myself?  I feel like I'm ready to be balled up and thrown away.....