Another side of the story...

I'm surrounded by kids every day. From 9:10 to 3:35, 26 students come to me and rely on me for multiple things.

Every other Sunday I serve in the 9-12 month baby room at my church. For about an hour and a half, I hold babies, play with them, rock them, sometimes feed them, occasionally change them.

I have a niece and a nephew. I'm close to them. I've been fortunate to be in their lives since they were born; I was present at both of their births.

Most of my friends have children, ranging from one year olds to college age.

I see children everywhere. Parks, grocery stores, sidewalks, malls, etc.

Skipping rocks, chasing dogs, eating ice-cream, having meltdowns, holding their mommy or daddy's hands.

And my heart aches.

Being childless is an interesting position.

People think I'm young enough and have plenty of time. Or that I don't want kids of my own. Or that when I'm married I'll have a child. Or that I'm "lucky" I have so much free time. Or that it's nice because I can be around my friends' kids and then go back home when I've had enough.

When offering an opinion about managing children or setting boundaries or giving consequences or working with children on homework or any number of other things, I've been asked, "Do you have children?" And when the answer is no, I can see the shift in the eyes, the raised eyebrows, the slight dismissal, the expression and tone of voice that says, "Ohhh. Then you don't really know what you're talking about."

When I was growing up and in high school, I wanted to be the mom that goes to all the sporting events, that volunteers in the school, that drives kids around, that had the house that my children's friends hung out in.

I knew I had fertility issues, that getting pregnant wasn't going to be easy. When I was married, I tried three times to get pregnant with fertility drugs, giving myself daily shots and going to many, many dr. appointments. No dice. It was a bad marriage, I was divorced before my fourth wedding anniversary, so it's probably best that I didn't get pregnant.

You can adopt. You have time. You can go to a sperm donor.

Umm.... it's not that easy.

I'm almost 42. Old in baby terms. Too many medical issues that can occur, for both the baby and me. Plus there's the whole fertility thing. Time and money.

Adoption on my own? Not what I want. I wanted to have a child with a man who loves me, to raise a child together. To be mommy and daddy.

Things change as time moves on. Priorities shift.

I am with a man I've been in love with for over three years. I admire him, respect him, laugh with him, lean on him, have a life with him. We enjoy many things together. He has two sons, and I've gotten to know them over the past couple of years. I get to be around them in the summer and the three of us are building our own relationship. It's good.

My relationship with James is fulfilling, joyful, solid. The two of us will continue to build our lives together and experience many things together. The good and the bad. I would not trade it for anything. I'm thankful for it every day. Our lives are rich. We are blessed.

Yet, there remains a little sadness.

I miss the idea of working on homework with my son. Of putting pigtails in my daughter's hair. Of going to school recitals. Of wiping tears. Of hearing first words. Of knowing a kid has my eyes or laugh or sarcasm or sensitivity. Of sharing books together.

I'd like the chance to screw up my own kid :)

I'd like to know that I've influenced a child, that I've given him a foundation, values to build on.

So, if I get quiet, or excuse myself from a conversation about the best way to deal with tantrums, or tear up during baby dedications at church, or get tired of baby showers, or have just the tiniest bit of resentment toward people and their pregnancies, forgive me. It'll pass.

Know that I'm good. Know that I have a love for life. Know that I'm regaining the happiness in my life. Know that I'm in a good place. Know that I'm surrounded by friends and family who I love, and who love me. Know that I laugh daily (or pretty close!).

Also know that being childless can hurt and we don't always know the back story.

Love you. xo

(for some reason, I like this picture!)