Sometime back in December, I overheard a conversation while the women were baking Christmas treats. A friend of ours had just had a baby, and one remarked how wonderful to watch a life being born.

Somewhere in my head, I began to reflect on the things that I wished I could have had experienced, but have missed out. That is one such event. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family the way it is. I have come to realize that now more than ever, with DS-25 having moved out recently, and DD-18 (is she really 18 now?) out and about, and probably moving out on her own sometime in the next year or so. The last 5 years of marriage have flown by, and since the youngest two were just in their early teen years when Mary and I met, I have watched them grow, with the satisfaction that I was there to witness it and have been a part of it. However, some of the younger stages, I have missed out on. Ones that may have bonded me closer to the kids than it feels now. I’ll experience some of that with the grandkids. I know that for sure, but there are some things that I have missed out on.

Mary and I talked about starting our own family, back when we got married. I was turning 40 and I was didn’t think me turning 58 when the kid turned 18 was one of those things that would be great. Not to mention that I didn’t want to risk Mary’s health, even though she had no risk factors for having a any problems, and the age difference between our youngest now and it’s age.   So it’s kind of disconcerting then, at this point, that  I have been thinking what it would be like to be there for the birth of a child that is related to me. I’m not sure where this comes from. Maybe from feeling not fully bonded with the kids yet, and they are all independent adults so time to continue to grow more intertwined with them is limited. So it gets me a little down realizing that. However, this is just a fleeting emotion. It will pass, but for now, it is a new thorn in my side.