I’m not sure if I’ve ever posted about my longing to be a mother.  I’m 31, single, have never been married, and do not have children.  Of those facts, being childless makes me most sad.  Over a year ago I had a conversation with a friend and we agreed that he’d be my sperm donor the next time we got together.  The Tuesday before Thanksgiving (which was one day after I had ovulated according to my period tracker app but right in the middle of my “fertile days” according to WebMD) I was in his town.  We didn’t revisit our conversation.  Before I knew what was going on we were in his bed and I was riding him.  And then he was cumming and I had a brief “what the hell are we doing?! There’s no condom!” moment in my head.  For over a week I had dreams (like, literal dreams) about finding out that I was pregnant.  I poured over my favorite baby names list, refining first and middle name combinations.  I thought about how I’d set up the baby area, how I’d break the news to my friends and family.

And then this morning I started my period, three days early.

I was indifferent about it when I first saw that my flow had started.  But then I cried.  I cried and cried.  And I looked at my baby names list and cried.  And I text Gage to unload my baby blues.

Really, bringing a child into the world at this point in my life would probably be – unwise.  I’m single.  I live in a 2 BR apartment with my ex (yes, with my ex).  So, there’s just my income and no extra bedroom and certainly no extra money.

But is there really a perfect time for becoming a parent?

Sigh.

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