So I thought it was just a "summer" thing, but it looks like I'm going through something called perimenopause... Like clockwork, I turned 40 this year, and the process seems to have begun without warning.
Perimenopause does not mean I can't have children, it just means I'm rudely reminded by hot flushes and emotional rollercoasters that my baby making days are coming to and end.
Look, I spent almost two decades, with a brief break in-between when I fell pregnant with 
Look, at the time, I wasn't sure, but I definitely knew that I had my plate full with Matthew and that I was potentially going to become a stepmother to two other children, 
And it is, don't get me wrong. My kids are great and juggling what we already have is exhausting and rewarding at the same time. , I remember a little while ago, I was trying to stuff all three kids into the car, oh yes, it was when I was still doing school runs, and I had this vision of trying to heard those three (which is like herding cats but with luggage) with a giant pregnant belly or trying to strap a screaming baby into a car seat and it actually made me a bit nauseous TBH.
So, I thought I had made some sort of peace with the fact that my baby making days were over and Zak and I even have a spreadsheet, tracking the kids ages ad when we are aiming for freedom.
So why is it that now, now that were way pat the halfway mark with all three kids,, that I'd logically want to reset the clock by 20 years (give or take)?
Well, that's just the thing, isn't it. I don't think logic has much to do with it. I understand my mother better now. I was always critical of her purposefully falling pregnant with me, even though she knew that my father was such a train-wreck and becoming progressively worse as an alcoholic.
I fell pregnant with Matthew very purposefully. I wanted to have a baby before I reached 30, and I fell pregnant at 27 and gave birth at 28 via emergency C-section. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, fell into my neatly formed plan that I had set out in my head. Thank GOD I was on medical aid and was able to give birth at a private hospital. That meant I had access to pain management and was cared for extremely well. I had a friend who had similar complications during labor, Matthew basically became disengaged/ went into reverse nd there was no pressure on my nether regions to dilate. This left me in full blown labor, with contractions about 2 minutes apart, for almost 12 hours. Look, some of that time, at least two hours, was extended y me on purpose as I tried bouncing up and down on the yoga ball and walking up and down the passage, trying to get Matthew to go down. I don't know why I tortured myself... I think perhaps it was because my partner was adamant that I shouldn't be forced into a C-section, and the fact that my mom had given birth to both myself and my sister, "naturally.
Well, I was a waitress at the time, having lost my managerial position at my most fondly remembered jobs at the time I fell pregnant, and my partner and I were planning to split up, which meant I should have gone back onto contraceptives but there was so much going on... I just...didn't. When I fell pregnant with Matthew, it really was a massive surprise. I knew something was up though when my wine started tasting funny 🤣 I was working at a horrible restaurant at the time but managed to find a far more stable position where I only needed to work day shifts, grueling as they were. I had an amazing boss who supported me through my pregnancy, which was amazing because I kind of sort of by mistake/ on purpose left out that I was 7 weeks pregnant when I took the job on. I could pump milk at work and eat as much chocolate ice-cream as I wanted. I always say that Matthew was made out of chocolate ice-cream...
But at home, things just got worse. We decided to get married, the proper way so I got the white dress and everything, but my ex just became more and more abusive, leaving all of our responsibilities up to me. I missed the first four years of Matthew's life essentially.
The lovey restaurant I was working for when I was pregnant/ breastfeeding, closed down and I found an amazing position working for a massive restaurant group as a junior admin manager ad moved my way up the ranks to senior management as a GM. I ran two of their restaurants, which was back breaking work. I used to take the bus, so traveling time meant one and a half hours in each direction and 10 hours at work. I would then get home to zero groceries in the fridge, so I'd have to go to the shop, no dinner made and no dishes washed.
On the days that my ex didn't feel like going to work... which became more and more regular, he would just stare at his pc, not take Matthew to school and provided him with no stimulation , like reading or educational play, leaving him to be babysat by the dog, essentially. s a result, Matthew fell behind his peers and really only started being able to speak at the age of 4.
The guilt was... indescribably heavy... and it still is. I wish I could get back those years, but it doesn't work that way... does it?
I eventually kicked Matthew's father out just before his fifth birthday. I was exhausted and abused. It was the scariest thing I ever did. It was a prison I thought I'd never escape, but I did. And that took more bravery than I ever imagined. I actually thought I'd be trapped with him forever.
But still, even in the midst of the hell that was my married life, we explored the idea of having another baby. That things would be different this time... bla bla bla... and I am SO GLAD I didn't follow through with that..
Then 6 or 7 years later I met Zak. As I said earlier in the post, I knew I had y hands full, and was satisfied with y life as a mother and becoming a part of the family we re today...I just always left that window open... just a peek... just incae the stars aligned and I would be in a position to have another child.
Another chance to be a better mom.
To get a chance to be with my baby in ways I wasn't able to the 1st tie around.
But we are definitely not in that place at all in our lives, and although it is completely illogical, my heart is aching for another child. But my time is running out.
I mean, how can my ovaries not do flick flacks at this beautiful artwork my mom is busy with of Matthew? Sigh...
I mean, I would need to lose 40kgs, get onto comprehensive medical aid and work a good full time job with great maternity benefits. That's pretty "pie in the sky" right now. I'd also have to go off most of my medication, and I don't know what kind of mother that would make me.
Perhaps the broodiness will pass... in time...
Maybe I just need more cats!!