I was having a typical Thursday morning. Standing in my favourite spot that has the best vantage point of the school yard. All the kids were having a good time chasing one another, playing cops and robbers, you know the typical schoolyard games.
One of my wonderful colleagues and I were talking about an upcoming baby shower and the gifts we were planning on buying. I mentioned getting Robert Munsch's "I Love You Forever" since it's such a beautiful story. If you don't know, Robert Munsch's wife had multiple miscarriages and he wrote the story in memory of all of his lost babies. I said, "It's amazing that someone that is such a fantastic writer for kids doesn't have a family of his own!" And my colleague said, "Yeah, it seems like life works out that way. There's lots of people that should have children that don't." Right then and there I wanted to jump up and down and say "That's me! That's me!" But I didn't.
I love kids. Kids love me. I come from a HUGE family. My husband comes from a HUGE family. I have amazing kid intuition. I'm patient. I'm loving. I have a wonderful husband. We could provide a wonderful life. We have a beautiful home with lots of room. And most of the time, I am a good person.
But despite all of that I still don't have my own baby.
I'm an optimist. I always have been. And throughout this two year struggle I keep on thinking that the universe is trying to teach me something. Perhaps I need to be more patient. Perhaps I'm not ready. Perhaps I'm supposed to become a mom another way, after all there's lots of babies out there to love.
But I keep on going back to the fact that I want my own baby. One that looks like me. One that grows inside of me. Is that me being selfish?
Maybe this path I'm on is leading me to other answers. Maybe this will be the month. Maybe, just maybe.