If you’re anything like me, you probably always had a bit of plan as to how your life should be and “look”. Up until recently, mine was happily married with 2 kids living in our own home in a lovely Bayside Melbourne suburb, working a fabulous job with family holidays to the beach and Sunday drives complete with kids in the back of the car (most likely squabbling and asking are we there yet every 10 minutes) – just like the family I grew up in.
I’ve brought on a new reality for myself and despite keeping my fabulous job and living in the same area, the rest looks incredibly different. I can’t even begin to explain how so here.
What has been eating away at me slowly is the realisation that it’s almost certain Little T will be an only child (unless his father has more children). Up until a few months ago I had held out hope and depending on what day someone asked me, I felt like I did want another baby. I had a new found confidence that I would cope much better than first time around when PND took over.
Over the past year old so, I have been diligently packing away Little T’s clothes as he grew out of them. Popping all the hundreds of dollars of cloth nappies (many unused) into a box. Cringing at clothes so cute but still brand new as he grew so fast. Thinking that it will be ok if I have another boy. I told myself that worst case I would sell them and get some money back.
When I moved out of my dream family home a few months back, even more was packed up. Toys, high chair, original pram with bassinet, breast pumps and various other bit and pieces.
I now look at my situation and am near certain that it’s highly unlikely I will have any more children. I am struggling to come to terms with this. It’s as if once I finally decide that I would like another baby, that choice is taken away from me. I keep having visions of a newborn at my breast suckling away. Those tiny hands and feet wriggling as I feel that sweet feeling you get when you are feeding another life. The visions turn into a feeling that goes right through me, until reality hits home and I feel numb and sad. Fighting back tears.
I plan to donate a lot of what I have to mums who need it far more than my garage needs to store these things indefinitely. So much space is taken up and every time I go in there it’s a constant reminder of what might have been.
I don’t think I will give up hope completely but I do need to start letting go and I will ease into it by giving the things I can easily do without.
This is my new reality and I need to learn to be accepting and oh so grateful for what I DO have.
That is until I see a newborn and something churns inside me again.