There’s been remarkably little posted here that’s personal lately. I’ve shied away from anything that might even remotely sound like it would say what’s going on in my life.
Anybody that knows me knows that’s not like me.
This has not been easy … and it’s not a decision taken lightly.
As a kid I wanted kids. I dreamed of a little girl or a little boy. I wanted to play with them, love them, nurture them, and give them all the love in the world.
At 16 I met David. He spoke of forever. He made pretty promises. In private he beat the crap out of me and verbally destroyed me. By 19 I’d had 3 miscarriages because of his kicks and punches. To him that was easier than any form of birth control.
I married Charles because he promised to protect me, to protect Nanny and Grandad from David. I still dreamed of children. We talked of what our kids would be like. Things turned bad and we fought. He was emotionally and verbally abusive, though rarely physical. I found out that because of the damage David had caused my dreams of my own children was gone, beaten out of me. Charles revealed that he’d never wanted kids anyhow, so it was better this way.
I hardened my heart, declared that I hated kids, never wanted them. It was easier you see. It hurt less. After so many years of hurt I just couldn’t take any more.
I met Lynn. I was very clear that I couldn’t have them, didn’t want them, didn’t like them. I’d help with his daughter when he had her but I wasn’t going to give him more. He was fine with that, said he was too old to have more anyhow and we were good. We married.
Four years later I miscarried.
That was in September. Through October I ignored the implications. I couldn’t change my way of thinking. In November it began filtering into my consciousness. I miscarried … therefore I had been pregnant. That causes babies. I could have babies, there was at least a chance.
My world was shattered as it sank in. All that I had ever believed was different. Thanksgiving Day I broke down. I sobbed at the loss, at the missed chance, at the years lost. Lynn held me each time I cried. Thus was the beginning of several very long and very painful talks.
I want kids. Lynn originally said absolutely not. He has since said maybe. I can’t go on a maybe though. I need to be sure, I need to be with somebody that wants kids as much as I do.
There’s nothing wrong with Lynn being unsure. It’s a major shift, particularly considering his age. But I can’t wait around either. So while he’s figuring out what he wants we’re going to consider ourselves separated / single. We’re dating other people. We’re still living together, because financially I have very few options, particularly when it comes to insurance. In some ways nothing has changed. In so many other ways everything has changed.
I have removed my ring. I wore it and we kept the secret until now to make things easier for our friends and family, and to avoid confusion just before the holidays. We’re still friendly. I still love him. Perhaps if I didn’t this would be an easier move.
You’ll notice none of this is about Lynn being an ass or mean or anything else like that. That’s because that’s not what this is about. This is because I want kids and he’s unsure enough to make me pause. I’m not opposed to working things out should he decide he wants that life, but I can’t wait around either.
He’s a good guy, and I hate like hell that I’m hurting him. We made this decision before my birthday in November, and yet he spoiled the crap out of me for my birthday and Christmas. I know he loves me. But because of that love we share I can’t force kids on him if that’s not what he wants.
Life could be less complicated, that would be nice.