Dare I say it: I think I am finished making babies.
I haven’t shut down the shop, but with my current odds, I think that having another most likely will never happen.
I’m almost divorced. I’m in my late 30s. I’m building my career. I went through the hardships of hyperemesis gravidarum in pregnancy twice and dealt with miscarriage. The odds of meeting someone amazing and fast and being stable enough work-wise to leave work and get sick and pregnant (plus risk my health) are pretty low. So when my ex signed over our martial home to the bank, I found myself sifting through our daughter’s old baby clothes picking which items to keep for myself, which to give away, and which to leave in storage for . . . a potential baby for my ex? For me?
Read More: The Heartache of Being “Done” With Babies