My lovely kids,
I can exactly see how you would look, I know what you would be called, I know I would take you to museums, concerts, the sea and all kinds of places. Most of all: I would love you till my last breath. But still, you're not here. You'll never be here.
When I was in my twenties I wasn't thinking about kids of my own. I was busy getting myself together after ordeals that made my world shake. I knew I couldn't do that to a child to be part of that.
When I was in my thirties it took a while for me to admit that I'd love to have kids. But then there was no man in my life.
That day in September 2012 when I walked out of the gynecologist office and felt like my whole world fell apart. That day she told me that it was never going to happen: kids. That day I sat at the river and watched it stream by. It all fell apart in just a few hours.
Every time someone around me tells me they're expecting a baby it still feels like a little knife is being stuck in my stomach. I'm happy for those people: I really am. But going over and cradle a baby when they're born, is still really hard. I do go over and hold the baby, but after I get home I go to my bed and just cry my eyes out. It makes me feel empty, but selfish at the same time, because it feels wrong that I cry about the same thing that makes them so happy.
I am surrounded by kids every day of my life, because I'm a secondary school teacher. I love those kids: they make me smile, angry, happy, laugh and even cry sometimes. But it isn't the same thing as having kids of your own. But I am still very glad I have those lovely kids in my life, because it makes me feel little less like a failure.
To my lovely, non-existing, kids.........if you'd been here, you would have taken my heart, feel protected from everything and feel my love for you.