Baby, Baby

I've been spending time with my nephew. He's about nine months old now and he's a really good, chilled out, fun kid. I adore him. BUT, I'm not one of those women that oooh and coo over babies. My mother pushes the poor kid upon me and when my reaction isn't to instantly jump and down in ecstasy over him it's a huge disappointment to her. It's no secret that she would like another grandchild - via her only daughter. But we're missing one vital ingredient here, as my best friend pointed out, the sperm donor!
But as she said to me yesterday, she's hoping that by me spending time with my nephew, he'll 'change' me. Change me into what exactly?
I have never been one to fawn over babies. Never will be. Puppies play that role in my life. I have always thought I wanted children and I still believe I do. The idea that it will be my own child. A product of the union of myself and the man I love. Sounds peachy. But someone else's child? Even if it's my brothers? Well, I'm happy to play with him, to hang out with him, to love him...and then hand him back!
But the pressure to conform into that type of woman is fairly high. The sad thing is that to be made to feel like you're lacking somehow takes away from how you really do feel. My mother's insistence on her version of me loving my nephew takes away from the love I do feel for him. It makes it seem like it's not enough. And it is.
All of this just serves to make me miss my baby Belle even more!