As a teenager and well into my 20’s, my wish list for life read much like a fairy tale shopping list. Achieve dream job – check; buy a new car – check, travel the world – check, meet Mr Right (or at least Mr Right for Friday night) – check, and wear the latest trends – check. Fall pregnant – err, not so much!
So fast-forward 10 years and the irony of sitting in a fertility clinic was certainly not lost on me. After years spent going all out to avoid getting pregnant, now here I was, having met Mr Right (for all Friday nights), flicking through magazines of gazing babies. Babies that I was convinced, after a long period of trying, that I would never have.
I hate to say it but, when you have been fortunate enough to have gone through life and pretty much achieved and received everything you have ever wanted, never is there a truer cliché than ‘you always want what you can’t have’.
And, at that time, I would have happily given anything just to "have" a baby.
Everything else I wanted prior just began to seem so, well … immaterial.
I would have worked for minimum wage in a dead-end job, not owned a car, never left my hometown and dressed in rags, if it meant that all of my previous wishes and dreams could be exchanged for the guarantee that I would one day hold my own child, rather than always everyone else’s.
And trust me, everyone else was having babies … I swear! Or it certainly felt that way at the time. I just couldn’t avoid it! Every time I went out there were millions of waddling women EVERYWHERE. I saw women caressing their bumps and smiling dreamily as they stocked up on super cute outfits in Target. I saw women asking for decaffeinated coffee at the café as they sat for a while and rested their swollen ankles and aching backs. And I saw expectant women sat at the park, on the train and in the street. There was just plain simply nowhere that was safe. Nowhere I could go and not be reminded of the fact that I was not and, (in my dramatic state of mind) ever likely to be pregnant!
In fact, I wasn’t even safe online. Logging onto Facebook only resulted in making me feel worse as my news feed slapped me in the face with the announcement of yet ANOTHER friend expecting. And, of course, these announcements wouldn’t be complete without the obligatory collection of pictures now would they?