I signed up for some new health insurance on the weekend and as I was clicking through the checklist of boxes of what I did and didn’t need, I realised that I’m not going to have kids.
It hit me like a tonne of bricks as I scrolled to the ‘pregnancy and reproductive services’ box. I hovered over this box for about half an hour. I kept getting up and down from my desk, wandering around my office feeling a range of totally unexpected emotions.
I was completely unprepared for this.
I’d probably describe myself as a career girl; I work in the media, I get to travel a lot, and to date, have had some great loves in my life and some great adventures thus far. I lead a full life. Is it a happy life? Yes it is. Is it a full life? Yes it is.
So why did this little frickin box cause me so much torment?
It’s the smallest things that unravel us sometimes. I’m about to turn 42 this week and I’m really loving being in my forties. I’ve never felt as confident as I do these days – I have a really clear sense of who I am and what I want in life. So maybe I’ve got some pre-birthday blues?
That frickin box.
It made me wonder if I’m not following life’s recipe properly or if I’ve missed an ingredient somewhere. I don’t ever remember feeling the yearning to have children that some women talk about. I’ve never felt the pain of an empty womb or getting clucky around babies. I’m lucky to have 7 nieces and nephews that I’ve watched grow into amazing people and have been a really ‘hands on’ aunty. I’ve always adored other people’s kids, loved them to bits in fact.
So why am I feeling this now?
I don’t want to buy into the notion that because I’m a woman I should be procreating but is there something lurking deep down in my psyche that in fact, still clings to the hope that I’ll have a kid?