To Baby or Not to Baby?

Dearest Domestic Goddess,

While you're off frolicking in Italy, my biggest highlight this week has been getting amazing health insurance! As you know, I've had Freelancer's Union health insurance this past year, which really did nothing for me unless I all of a sudden woke up one day with three eyes and one leg.

Anyway, since getting on The Doctor's Health Insurance (as our Domestic Partnership went through beautifully with his hospital), the strangest thing has happened... all of a sudden, I want to go for every medical checkup I can think of! Pathetically, I just want to go for fun because I can. And, equally as strange, is this sudden desire to reproduce again. As you know, I've been tres anti-baby for a while, so this has been the biggest shocker to me.

This past year, I didn't do my usual somewhat dangerous activities of snowboarding, rockclimbing and the like, and I think it's because I was too nervous without good health insurance. I had read in The Armchair Economist: Economics & Everyday Life, that people will drive more recklessly with seat belts and airbags. In fact, the author, Steven E. Landsburg, writes, "[in order] to bring about a major reduction in the accident rate: Require every car to have a spear mounted on the steering wheel, pointed directly at the driver's heart." No doubt that would bring about safer driving from all these NYC taxi driving freaks.

Moving on. Now that I feel like hanging out at the doctor's office every five seconds, all of a sudden my uterus has come alive again! I assumed this year that I didn't want to have kids after watching several of my friends' marriages dissolve because of kids and household responsibilities. I'm not interested in kickin' it with my Domestic Partner due to a poop-filled diaper, you know?

But now I'm wondering if it had to do with not having health insurance, and not feeling like I had enough money to provide for Little Baby Buddha. I've been getting more clients, so I've been feeling more financially secure, and, with that, it makes me think it's okay for me to spawn. (Though me and my beloved's kids may be so weird that they'll spin out into outer space, so maybe it's not a good idea...)

Who really knows what's going on? I'm 29 and I really thought my belly was Closed For Business. Perhaps, since 30 is fast approaching, my clock is coming out of the dust-filled basement?

Guess I can't call babies Little Liabilities anymore.

Love,

Domestic Partner