I had a very strange dream the other night. For the first time, I dreamed I was pregnant.
I’m talking big belly, soon to be momma pregnant. Waddling pregnant. Everyone on pins and needles waiting for the first labor pain pregnant.
I was so sad to wake up and find it was only a dream.
I have always wanted children, although I can’t ever picture myself as being a mother of anyone over the age of two. It never happened. It is the only regret I have in life.
When Scuba Man and I got married, we had talked of kids, but we never had any serious ‘yes we’re having kids/no we’re not having kids’ conversation. It was talk in passing…what will our kids think of this? Or, can you imagine our kids being like that? Passing talk.
After being married for a couple of years, Scuba Man told me he didn’t really want kids. Being insecure and rather stupid at the time, I went along with it. I honestly thought that if I pushed the issue, he would leave. Yeah, really stupid. Looking back on it, I can’t believe I ever thought that of him.
Our motto became “don’t want ‘um, don’t need ‘um, wouldn’t know what to do if we had ‘um anyway”. I would never admit that I wanted children once Scuba Man said he didn’t.
My mom, in all her infinite wisdom, said I would regret not having children. She was a smart woman. She was right.
I’ve heard all kinds of things about being a foster-mother, or adopting a child. For me, this wouldn’t work. The thing I regret is not going through a pregnancy, not feeling a child grow inside of me, not actually having a baby and holding it before it even gets cleaned up.
To this day it is still sometimes hard for me when I see something on TV about someone having a baby. And, it seems there is always something to remind me, whether on TV, in a book I’m reading, or running into a dozen pregnant woman while our running errands.
I don’t know how to get over this regret. Is it possible?