Profound title, huh?
I’ve had a real week. My oldest has gone off to school for his first day at Reception today. He looked so grown up and responsible in his uniform and it is a HUGE milestone for me. It’s the start of real memories of my own childhood and the start of what will be a formative and enormous part of his life.
And next year my youngest follows straight after him. In a year’s time I will have no babies in the nest any more.
Part of the reason I always wanted my children close together is because I wanted them to go through all the stages together, and so as a family we could do things together that wouldn’t entail dragging along a grumpy teenager and a grumpy toddler. And also for me – because I like to get things done and the idea of going back to baby things after getting my older children into school… it’s a bit odd for me. But that’s just me. I know it’s different for everyone.
I have a huge desire to be a big part of my son’s life in a way my own parents weren’t – to be there for him after school, to talk about his day, his friends, and his homework (assuming he’ll want to do all that!). I don’t want a newborn distracting me from the importance of my sons striking out on their own. I know this won’t make sense to many of you, but to me, that window of having all my children close together – it’s almost closed.
And for the first time ever, I really feel it. I don’t know if I can even explain it in words, but unlike any other point in the last 2.5 years, I feel like this path I’ve been on, my quest for a third, is disappearing, getting overgrown, vanishing under my feet. There’s not much path ahead – I know it deep in my heart.
I didn’t want to get here – I didn’t intend to walk the entire length of this route and see all this heartache and misery before realising with such clarity that it actually doesn’t go anywhere after all. I couldn’t have known that when I set out, but despite that, I am still glad I made the journey. I MISS with all my heart the baby boy that I lost in March. So much. But he was, really, my last chance and for whatever reason, he didn’t join us.
This might all sound sad and miserable, but I want to stress that I am not overcome with grief – I am, in a way, faintly surprised to find myself here. The path goes no further, all I can see ahead is green fields and the sensation of everything we’ve been through is a kind of wonder that it really happened that way at all.
It’s a kind of Oh well.
It’s a kind of Oh, the path stops here.
It’s a kind of Oh. This isn’t the way after all.
Inside me, there is a little tiny flame of freedom, which I am carefully guarding. A little part of me that knows moving on can mean finding happiness in other ways. It’s small – believe me. I still flinch inside when I see pregnant women.
But it’s there.
My little light to guide me to the signpost that points somewhere else, when I am ready to pack up and go.
Today is CD2. My period arrived yesterday evening in its usual flood, soaking through my knickers and trousers in the space of fifteen minutes.
And in the cupboard, are the soy isoflavones I ordered last week. For trying this cycle.
My heart isn’t in it. But I’m relieved actually.
So, I’ll take them, probably just for a couple of days, and then I will test out “moving on”. I don’t really have any expectations left (I REALLY thought it was going to happen last month, but it didn’t).
We’ll see where this month takes us. I might chart, I might not.
And perhaps next month we see what it’s like to not try at all.
Because I don’t want to turn 40 with a heart full of tears.