After having Joe, I really wanted another baby. As time’s gone on, the feeling’s mostly warn off, but there’s still that little glimmer of wondering… just one more? Before it’s too late?
This morning, I’d told Harry that we had to keep poxy Joe away from one of the school mums because she’s pregnant. When his best friend came over, I said, “R’s mum’s pregnant too!” And R said, to me, “Are you pregnant?!”
I said, “No!” but in the manner of Kevin the Teenager being asked if he had a girlfriend. Like “Pffft! Ha! Like I could have a baby! What an utterly ridiculous idea!”
Of course, I understand that I already have two children (although that still startles me since I’m, you know, about 12), but it’s clear to me now that there won’t be any more.
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