Oh, how I relate to the ambivalent feelings! I have just one, and I too often long for a daughter, though grateful for the peaceful rhythms with my one. But now he is touring colleges and I'm not ready for motherhood to only have lasted 18 years. I'm 47 and still won't let my husband get a vasectomy even though I know pregnancy would be dangerous now. It's hard to let go...
Really interesting to read this take. Thank you for sharing. The feeling of the door closing sounds a bit like the occasional fleeting feelings I have about having decided not to have kids. I am confident about my choice but it doesn’t mean I don’t sometimes think, “oh, right, I’m never going to have that.”
Thank you for sharing these complicated feelings. As a stepmother, I had to make peace, best as I could, with the fact that we only have the means (energetically, attentionally, financially) to care for one child, and your essay brought me back into the years in which that conversation was especially alive within me. Happy Mother's Day, Maggie.
Oh, how I relate to the ambivalent feelings! I have just one, and I too often long for a daughter, though grateful for the peaceful rhythms with my one. But now he is touring colleges and I'm not ready for motherhood to only have lasted 18 years. I'm 47 and still won't let my husband get a vasectomy even though I know pregnancy would be dangerous now. It's hard to let go...
Really interesting to read this take. Thank you for sharing. The feeling of the door closing sounds a bit like the occasional fleeting feelings I have about having decided not to have kids. I am confident about my choice but it doesn’t mean I don’t sometimes think, “oh, right, I’m never going to have that.”
Thank you for sharing these complicated feelings. As a stepmother, I had to make peace, best as I could, with the fact that we only have the means (energetically, attentionally, financially) to care for one child, and your essay brought me back into the years in which that conversation was especially alive within me. Happy Mother's Day, Maggie.
Love this!