Was I meant to have children? Well, since I don’t believe in predestination that’s a useless question.
I know one thing. I’m not maternal in the way some women are.
There aren’t enough words to describe being a mother. It really is the most wonderful and difficult thing you can do, just like they say.
My children bring me so much joy; a type of joy that can’t be found any where else.
But this life I’ve chosen strangles a vital part of me.
It is hard for me to accept this truth, but there it is. I could never imagine not having my little ones, but all the same the myriad possibilities that cannot come to fruition seem a crushing load to bear some days.
Plus, failure at anything else in life could never be as devastating as failing as a mother, so there’s that hanging over me every time I do anything.
Then to top it all off there are the days I want another one.
Life is insane.
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