Something strange has happened (yes, stranger than usual) to me recently. After being adamant I was happy that R and G would be our first and last children I’ve found myself feeling overwhelmingly sad that I won’t have another child. Ever.
It’s completely and utterly irrational. It’s also anatomically impossible because Dh has been turned off at the mains. Yes, vasectomies can be reversed but, as Dh has (firmly) reminded me, they take a whole section of tubing out these days AND they don’t do reversals on the NHS so he’d have to pay and go private. Hmm, wonder if he’s trying to tell me something…
My sadness was triggered by a few little things. Lots of people we know have babies now and the girls have already asked me (why me? Why not Dh?) if they can have a baby brother or sister. R and G are growing up so quickly – they’ll be starting school this time next year – and I can already feel them growing away from me. This is no reflection on them. They’re simply wonderful (99.9% of the time) but I know that the years are passing incredibly quickly.
There are so many things that I feel I got wrong with R and G (don’t start me off) and I think, with the experience I now have, I’d do a much better job with a subsequent child. I’m also curious to see what having a single child is like. All of my pregnancy, birth and child-rearing experiences are framed around twins and I’d like to see how different it really is with one baby.
R and G are absolutely Dh’s children. They look like him. They have quite a lot of my personality, but they are the image of their father. I always said that if I had girls I wouldn’t want them to look like me but I thought they might have my wavy hair or colouring or….something.
We were in the park a couple of weeks ago and a (I guess) two year old girl ran in front of me as I supervised R and G on the swings. She had long dark ringlets (just like I had when I was little) and was wearing pink Birkinstocks. Her Dad called after her and her name was Freya. I really wanted one of the girls to be called Freya but Dh absolutely hated the name so we had R and G instead. When I thought of the name, all those years ago, she was the image of the child I had in my head.
After feeling down for a month or so I feel I’ve made my peace with it now. I spoke to my Mum about it and she said that the urge doesn’t go away until it’s physically impossible for you to produce a child. I also know, through speaking to friends with children that what I’m going through is absolutely normal.
My head knows that R and G are my first and last children and is content with the decision. My heart knows that I couldn’t mentally cope with any more. I’ll scratch my itch by enjoying everyone else’s children from now on.