It's been coming on for ages since DS#2 was about 4. I did the sad thing when he left nursery. I cried a little when the last pram was sold at a car boot and when I took the last of the baby clothes and toys to Oxfam. But there was still a residual regret.
Friday evening I went to see a friend who had had a baby. He was tiny and very new and I went in to her house expecting to be overwhelmed with the usual wave of longing and adoration. But no. Nada! I looked at him and thought he looked mostly like a large pink slug I made all the right noises and cuddled him (mum made it sound like a favour), said the right things. But my main feeling was 'thank god that's not me'. Wondering if it's a menopause-related thing or just the next stage in my life.
I can honestly say now that I am glad all that messy, chaotic baby stuff is behind me. Wierd how it happens. I now know how some of my friends felt when I thrust my firstborn into their arms and they looked slightly underwhelmed