I don’t think people talk about this enough.
Ever since I was a little girl I wanted to be a mum, playing mums and dads and forever taking on that role. The first time someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up I remember telling them I wanted to be a midwife so I could play with the baby’s all day. Growing up I was always the one helping in the crèche at church, helping at holiday clubs and youth clubs. I studied childcare and education at school, always wanting to work within the childcare industry.
I became a godmother and an aunty to some of the best children I’ve ever known (unbiased of course!).
I’ve spent my entire life surrounded by children, loving them as my own.
But I’ve longed to be a mum. I have longed for this for as long as I can remember. I have never wanted anything more.
I thought I would have had my chance by now, i thought id be married, settled with at least one, but maybe two of my own to love.
Watching people who I love become parents, being so incredibly elated for them but coming home to cry myself to sleep because it isn’t me.
The mixed feelings of being so happy for people but so broken for yourself. It’s tough.
I don’t think people realise it physically hurts; it reminds me of the early days of my grief. Where your heart is so broken it actually hurts, real pain that no one can truly understand but yourself.
They will tell you you’re young, there’s still time. And whilst that comes from a place of love (and may well be true) it doesn’t lift the pain you feel in that moment.
I guess what I’m trying to say is sometimes life doesn’t pan out as you had dreamed it would. My life changed forever the day I lost Pete but I have always tried to have hope for my future, I guess it’s just been getting harder to find that hope in recent times.
