It isn’t my actual children that are causing me stress these days, but the “maybe baby” that haunts me.
I have recently crossed into ‘that age’ among women. Sure, I could still procreate, but I’ve sort of crossed that dateline where people startle, a little agog, if you do.
Maybe. Certainly for a 30-something mother of two healthy children, it makes no sense at all to have another child.
But then, it never really does, do you think?
Unless you have a hankering for farmhands, there’s usually no compelling ‘need’ to have a baby.
Yet, in the back of my mind, is the ‘maybe baby’ I still catch myself contemplating sometimes. It’s the hypothetical third child I’m not sure I want, but somehow, can’t quite give up on.
Blame. I blame the children for this. If they hadn’t arrived so perfectly timed –
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