Week Thirty-Eight - The Final Countdown

As an adult, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the reasons that people have children and I’ve concluded that it’s probably almost always some combination of selfishness, narcissism and animal instinct.  Even what seem like good reasons, like getting to relive childhood and experiencing unconditional love, strike me as a little self-indulgent.  And so, until I met The Swede, I wasn’t sure if having kids was something I wanted to do.  But guess what?  I am an animal and there’s nothing more natural yet incomprehensible that I can think of than the instinct to have children with the man you love.  Without even thinking about it, my mind was wholly changed just by meeting him in, I’m sure, the same way that it happens for everyone who was ever unsure about wanting to be a parent and then ultimately (purposely) became a parent.  So there’s that piece. I’m having a baby because that’s what we do and also for dozens of other selfish, narcissistic reasons.  But then, this morning, it came to me: the only 100% noble reason to have children that has ever occurred to me, and I was pretty pleased with myself for thinking of it, let me tell you.  The best reason I can think of to have a baby is this: The Swede is constantly kidding around when it’s just me and him and I often feel sorry for the rest of the world’s population for missing out on his clowning.  With this baby, finally someone else gets to be around to enjoy all the hilarious jokes.  Until it’s a teenager, anyway.  So you’re welcome, Baby Swede.