Remember when I said I had baby fever and that nothing would please me more to have another squooshy-wooshy baby or two to add to my already awesome pair of babies?
::checks in with biological clock::
Well, it doesn't look like it's going to happen and I'm about 65% okay with it. I can only hope that as the years go on and other babies are born into the family, I'll let go of the dream of another rugrat. Because let's be real here: by the time I meet someone that I'll actually want to spend the rest of my life with, marry him and then decide to have a baby, I'll be well into my 40s. And once you're in your 40s the risks of having a troubled pregnancy are higher than I want to deal with.
See, the first time around I had an OOPS pregnancy, followed by a DISTRACT MY DEPRESSION pregnancy with a man that I didn't love. As the girls got older I had this desire to do it all again, this time with a partner I cherished. In my mind there was this vision of us in our home with a toddler following K and N around with adoration in its eyes, and them spoiling it rotten, and all of us waiting for the OTHER baby to be born. Two more. That's all I wanted. Little Gracie & Nigel to round out the motley crew of Jaded babies in the world.
But alas, I've had to wave goodbye to that dream. I'm 36. Already my eggs are 36-years-old. I have fibroids and scarring from an ectopic pregnancy. And I hate doctors and chances are no one will OK me having a late-in-life baby with a midwife.
Part of me wishes I hadn't wasted all that time after my divorce fucking around, literally. All that shoulda-woulda-coulda is not good for The Voices, though, so I'm just going to chalk it up to a lesson learned and wait for Mari to start churning out my nieces and nephews. Plural.
However, once I repair this flux capacitor, it's ON!
*smooches...planning mischievous outings for Mari's kids*
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oh, they WILL be spoiled. bank on that!