I haven’t wanted children for the longest time.
But I remember when I stopped.
It was when we moved back.
When things changed.
When I felt more like a burden.
The reason your life was ruined.
I never wanted to make another child feel that way.
And that’s why I stopped wanting to be a mother.
To stop the pain from carrying on another generation.
But that doesn’t mean that as I approach the dusk of my childbearing years,
That I don’t wonder and wish,
What it could be like.
To be barefoot and pregnant.
To have a beautiful daughter with my husband – the man I love more than anything in this world.
And we would break the cycle.
And though we don’t have any material things to give her,
She would never want for love.
She would never doubt that she was meant to be here with us. That we would give her everything.
But it will always be a dream.
Because the time trickles away.
I approach 38. I’m not healthy enough for a child and I won’t have time to be.
And not having the wanted child – well maybe that is the saddest thing.
Laughs and Lobotomies 