I'm broody all over again. I will never get the hang of not being broody. I know that. Well, I suppose when I am 90 or something then I will, but you know what I mean, Dear Reader. Right now, it's never. I like being pregnant. I like new babies, older babies, toddlers, nursery age, school age, and I like them up to 8 years 7 months. That's how old the AC is, so that's as far as I know I like motherhood.
This goes a long way back.
All I have ever wanted, deep down, was a home, a good and loving man, and anywhere between 2-6 children.
I have a home, for which I work my bottom off, but at the end of the day it is *mine*. One day, it will be ours, but right now, legally speaking, it's *mine*. No-one can tell us what to do, or evict us on the spur of the moment. None of our money is wasted in rent. Every month I pay the mortgage, I pay more towards the house being ours in whole. I love this house.
I have a good and loving man. I've had terrible luck with men, - 2 divorces and a widowhood tend to make one feel slightly paranoid. I worry about losing J, but I worry deep down where no one can see it, because I know that it is paranoia, and I have seen that ruin too many relationships in the past. If I clutch at him too tightly then he will feel repressed, and I don't like that for a man. He needs to feel in charge, he needs to know I have every faith and trust him, and that I would accept a decision that he has made.
I suppose it is that last which is where I am struggling.
Rich and I were trying for a family. In the year that he died, I lost two before his death, and 1 immediately afterwards.
Always they are early, early losses. Just enough to know that they are there, and then they are gone. I think I've done it again, jut before Christmas, but I've got to the stage where I don't want to think about it anymore. Enough is too much already, as someone cleverer than me said. But to go from trying, to mourning, to never, in such a short time, has been a shock to my system.
I've had days when it feels like J would have children with his Ex, but not with me - what's wrong with me? (answer, probably nothing! Hey, hi paranoia lol!) Am I such a bad mother? (again, the answer is no! The She-Ex called me "Mary F-ing Poppins" except she used the whole word. She was that angry then, now? Who knows.)
I know some of this is based on being 37 soon. Too old to start all the nappies and things again, increased chance of congenital deformity, and all that jazz.
I do know, you know. I'm not stupid.
However, I have a beautiful and intelligent son, a kind-hearted stepson, an amazing stepdaughter somewhere in the Americas, who I will never stop loving, and a whole range of nieces and nephews and godsons and goddaughters and friends children and....
Well, you get the picture.
I am blessed in so many ways.
Just hormonally challenged.