“Every man has his own special dream, and your dreams’ just about to come true. Life’s not as bad as it may seem if you open your eyes to what’s in front of you.” Dreamgirls Soundtrack
Infertility and it’s affect on womanhood: Part Two
The hand that rocks the cradle controls the world. Antiquated notions of womanhood have trickled into modem day transforming into a multifaceted idea of gender roles. To be a real woman then (and even today) you must know how to cook, clean, take care of the house, take care of your husband, and of course rear the children. Your success in life measured on the maintenance and happiness of others.
So when you’re the woman whose house will never be filled with the pitter-patter of little feet, what then distinguishes you as a woman?
Thanks to modern science, a man can easily become female: add a few parts on top, remove a few parts on bottom and voila! There standing before you a reconfigured woman. The only inherent difference between that reconstructed woman and a natural woman is the womb. But if your womb doesn’t work, where does that leave you?
There lies the question: what is the difference between a barren woman and a transsexual man?
I feel like Sojourner Truth protesting my forgotten placement while chanting “Ain’t I a woman?”
I spoke about infertility affecting relationships in my earlier post, but I waited for this one to touch on infertility challenging my ‘natural’ role in society. Through the comments, I’ve learned that being able to bear children does matter when a man considers a future mate. The lack of procreation, though, won’t matter if he falls in love. Here in lies the point, I doubt a man will ever fall in love with a woman knowing she can’t be a mother to his kids. But I digress; the other underlying issue is that a woman now feels like she has no place in society.
Talk about throwing shade, infertility is incarceration on the South Pole. Not only are you cold, you start to lose melanin from lack of sunlight… soon you‘ll be as inarticulate as this topic. In other words a myth, a ghost, an urban legend.
What then makes a woman? Its not boobs, or booty, ot… other parts because technology has learn to engineer that and sell it to the highest bidder. Hell, Maury convinced us that many really can’t tell the difference. So what is it?
Maybe it’s the innate desire to see the white stick with two lines? Honestly, what the point of having Eve’s curse if you’re not blessed with the tiny tots that make AuntFlo necessary.
Men, without children, what makes a woman a woman?
Ladies, what makes you a woman? And if you were barren, would you feel less of one?