Recently, my body has ramped up its little reminders that my baby making days are approaching their end. Ever since my IUD was removed, I have been a hormonal mess. I feel an insatiable urge to make a baby. I’m smart enough to know that this is not something I actually want. I love our way of life, and a baby would change everything, which is not something I want to happen. That knowledge doesn’t change the fact, however, that my treacherous body has me pining for a baby and has even made me a little sad that I don’t have one.
I sometimes wish I could go back in time to meet D when I was younger, marry him, and have his babies. We could have a son and daughter of our very own. I would love to know what our kids would be like. Who would they look like? Would they be really smart? I’m never going to get to know, and I guess the point of this post is simply that I’m mourning that fact right now.
It feels silly and shameful to even write this out because things are so good, our kids are awesome, and another baby just doesn’t fit with our life plan. I am just hoping that writing it down will help me process it and move on. Getting my new IUD will help too. Come on April 14th!
Last night, when I was tipsy/high, I wrote a post about something very personal and I somehow had the presence of mind to think: draft this and decide in the morning. I just read it and it is very raw. I think I will post it at some point, but revised. Definitely revised.
I’ve recently started accepting compliments by smiling genuinely and simply saying, “Thank you.”