I think I must be the weirdest person on the planet. Everyone knows, right? But not me. I want to want kids. Been pregnant a couple of times but even then didn't feel any resolution. Mostly panic but uncertainty then relief then sadness.
Don't enjoy the company of kids but then they do say it's different when it's your own.
Husband would make a lovely dad but he says it's my choice and we already have a loving life together.
I want to be a better person and I think children could make me that but what if it made me bitter and cruel instead.
I have terrible social anxiety. Maybe it would make me strong for them. Or maybe I'd mess them up.
Worry about old age but know we're fundamentally all on our own for that.
A glimmer of me wants to meet "my" baby but a huge bit of me knows this is sentimental.
What if the baby has additional needs.
What if I have a birth injury.
What if my husband gets sicker (he has kidney disease).
What if I don't then at 45 something clicks.
What if I get bored. Either way.
Life is just so scary I hate it.