I think everything happens for a reason. I wasn’t supposed to watch the morning news because his wonderfully sweet ex was on there. Yeah, the one whose name he mistakenly called me while we were deep in conversation. A few months ago he called me by her name, and it made me sick. Literally made me sick for months. No food, no life interaction. I went to work and went to bed. That was it for about two months. I got a UTI due to lack of consuming beverages and “holding it in”. My doctor upped my meds and requested therapy; I took the meds, went to two sessions and called it quits. I’ve spoken to him about it. I know he loves me. I know all that, but still at the same time, I just can’t tell myself that there’s enough distance between him and her. At least I don’t feel that there’s enough. She has kids. He likes her kids. Her children do not have a father in their lives, so he steps up and does that. I see him doing this, then I sit back and think, “Damn, he is denying me the right to have children, but here he is standing up for this woman’s kids because he feels sorry for them.” Maybe I am being selfish. I don’t know anymore. I did want kids. I actually wanted 7 to be exact. Then I met him and he talked me down to two or three, which was fine. All nice and cool. We started talking about marriage and kids and it all seemed so close, at least it was all so close according to his words. Then, everything just stopped. I was 25, and quickly I turned 26, then 27 and 28. Years just kept passing and no kids. I needed to be with someone who was really on the same page as me. Yes, I feel trapped. I am trapped by love, but at the same time I am empty. There are no kids and actually I have given up on the entire idea of having children. I’m okay with adoption, and now he’s not into adoption. I’ve signed up into the program and attended classes as a single parent. I told him that too. Still he talks about, “When we have kids…” or “When you give me a baby…” I’m not. I do not plan on giving anything. I do not plan on giving him a child. If I could get my tubes tied this very day and call it a night, I would. I would be glad to do so. I am finished with schooling. I have a job. I have a home. I have a car. There is nowhere else for me to go and nothing else for me to do at this point. I have travelled, or done all that I plan to do. I stopped drinking years ago. I stopped putting large amounts of unknown medications into my body because I wanted to make my body healthy for a baby. I was ready. Damn, I was ready. Then slowly I realized that all the preparation in the world would never prepare me for the fact that what I wanted wasn’t happening. It wasn’t happening. I started drinking again. In fact, I’m pretty sure that there are times when alcohol completely replaces water and when I realize that, I’m down and out with another alcohol related UTI, like now. Yay. I crave the mind numbing pills, but I reach for bottles of Nyquil instead. Why try to keep the body healthy for childbearing, when there are no chances of carrying a child? I’ve told him that all women in my family seem to have a hard time conceiving and giving birth after like 32, he laughs and says that’s impossible. In his mind women can have babies well into their 50’s if they are healthy. But if nature says no, then that’s the answer. My periods have changed. On top of that my interest is gone. No, not really gone, it has just shifted on to plan b. Plan B is foster care and adoption. That’s what I am going to do. I will prepare myself to be alone because he is not interested in foster care or adoption. I’m tired of waiting, at least while I am waiting, I am attending classes for this program. As I take the classes, I get this insane strength that tells me that it’s okay to care for other children. Children who are in need and who do not have homes or even love. I can give for those children. But at the same time, I cry. My heart is so broken, I wanted my own. I wanted an infant to care for. I wanted a baby, a child, a teenager, a young adult, an adult…my own. Maybe that’s selfish. But for now, foster care and adoption is what it is. Maybe I’ll simply grow out of that too…and figure why not just move to Ireland and remain childless. There’s so much that I could do without children. But then I feel that I need a child, but at the same time, maybe I am just looking for something to fill that void. An emptiness that can never be filled. I could settle for a dog, I guess.

Currently I am at work and right now, I am taking a break. A nice little tea break actually. Go me!? This is rare. So very rare. Granted I work in an office setting, this is not the office setting that I dreamed of. You know how it is, we make goals and dreams for ourselves, and when it happens we are unhappy because it is nowhere near what we created in our heads. Maybe it just gives me something else to complain about. Something else to be miserable over. My office scene was nice. It was sweet. My own little desk with cubicle blocking the clutter of my co-workers desk beside me. I saw little pictures of my family on the desk, maybe some art from my niece decorating the walls. Scented candle decorating the space right beside my phone. Right next to my desk there is supposed to be a small, clutter free file cabinet. And a small natural light lamp next to my computer. The noise around me would be drowned out with some Adele or Pearl Jam playing softly in my background. My background. Sounds of others typing away at their keyboards and answering their phones, staplers being clicked quietly. My ink pens would only consist of those blue profile papermate pens, no pencils, cause I can't stand them. I would work wonderful hours from 7am to 4pm or even a later shift of 9am to 6pm. Please, excuse me as I sip on my pefect herbal blend of orange oolong tea in a pyramid bag, because pyramid bags are cooler than those square bags.

Hmm....I don't know if I can say that I've been screwed over or not. My office space consists of clutter, three women sharing a space the size of a small bathroom...stall in a club. Two computers, I can use mine and turn half an inch and use the other. The cordless phone is always lost. I can never find my staplers, because the teachers take them. They also take my pencils, pens, post-it notes, folders, copy paper, binders and creep through the millions of notes that are on my desk. The sound of children ring loud and clear during my hours of 7am to God-Knows-When pm. I clean, someone elses work spills over onto my side, well, my slice of desk. We don't have sides, we have "slices" of desk. It's okay, I've learned to...shut my mouth, work, clean up and organize as much as possible and take my paycheck.


Let's face it, it could be worse. I could be without a job.