I wrote in my earlier post today that “The joys of becoming a Mum must, for most women, be the absolute pinnacle of their life. Something we men cannot even begin to imagine.”
An even harder thing to imagine is the absolute pain and anguish of not being able to have children when your mind and body is telling you that you need to have a baby, you must have a baby, you desperately want to be a Mum.
I cannot even begin to understand how awful that must be and how helpless those ladies must feel.
Then, of course, there are those who choose not to have children, for whatever reason. My daughter is amongst these as she is severely epileptic, and has other health issues. She took the decision, very early on, not to have children.
I wrote the following a few days ago, having met an old friend, a lovely lady who I know would have dearly loved to have had children but, sadly, never did.
She would have been the perfect mum, but that was not to be.
She dreamed of babes, and sleepless nights, that she would never see.
She kept alive her forlorn hope for twenty years and more,
but deep down in her heart she knew, she really knew the score!
She always was the perfect aunt to many girls and boys.
She lavished them with love and hugs and far too many toys,
but deep down in her heart she knew, it sometimes made her glum.
She really knew that she was meant to be the perfect Mum.