I had always imagined having a big family, 3 was the golden number I always hoped for, no more than 3 years between each of them. I loved being pregnant with my daughter, and never thought I would not experience it all again. It feels really hard to put what is in my head into words without sounding selfish, healthwise I am fine so it is not that although I am not as young as I was, turned 38 just over a week ago, still young enough to have more.
I feel so guilty and ungrateful when I feel so broody some days it hurts, so I block it out and laugh it off I have to. I have an amazing little girl, spirited and talkative, thoughtful and caring; I could go on and on. I really did luck out with her she is truly my world, yet I always planned for her world to have brothers or sisters or both. She is not bothered, a fact she tells me quite often she loves being my one and only and she definitely would not want to share me. But would you not love someone to play with I ask her, Nah is always her reply not if I have to share you. Of course, I worry about years down the line when I am not here for her anymore but there is no guarantee she would be close to her siblings anyway and could have a friendship group that is even closer.
If I had fallen pregnant when she was 2 or around that age then she would know no different, but that was not to be, basically, my husband was the one who decided one was enough, and we couldn’t afford anymore. A number of people who have suggested I could get pregnant “accidently” after all what could he do about it after, that just shows how little people actually know me.
Some days I am so exhausted from Amelia I wonder what in hell’s name I am thinking ever wanting more after all her whole routine is up to me (no I didn’t plan it or want it this way). My sister in law often tells me I am a married single parent but that is a whole subject all on its own.
I will make peace with this I have too, it is just taking a lot longer than I thought it would.