Empty Arms

Dear Child of Mine,

Today is one of those days that my arms really ache for you. I feel as though I'll drive myself mad with grief if I think about you too much. Most days I can be more philosophical, but today not so much.

I ovulated over the weekend. Papa has been jollying me along with my broodiness, trying not to cause a row. I misinterpreted this as him approving of the idea. He's still indulging me in my conversations about what our lives would be like with a new little one. However, despite starting off what I thought was a baby making session without contraception, he suddenly whipped out a condom at the crucial moment. I was more than a bit gutted, but I put on my brave face and called him a spoilsport instead.

Writing it down, it seems as though he's treating me very unfairly. I don't think this is his intention. Papa has very good reasons for not being enthusiastic about baby making at this moment in time - and I am sure that he has good emotional reasons. If he doesn't want another baby, then I have no right to question this veto really, do I? In the same way that I would expect to be able to say no should he want another, and would shout loudly about brood-mares and the like if he were to try to impose his will onto me. However, I don't even know that that is his reason for saying no.

The thing is, David was very hard work and this has made Papa wary of small children. Also - and this should not be overestimated - Papa's place of work is closing down within the next three years. He's very good at his job and, chances are, he'll get a new job within this time. I'm 99% sure this is the case, as is his boss, who is a good and fair man. But it's a risk, and there are no certainties, and it makes Papa very nervous. I can understand his worry, and I am reassured by it - after all, I should not like to be with a man who makes babies willy nilly with no concern for how they might be supported.

The problem is that I will be 41 in three years time. The chances of my conceiving then will be much smaller. Peter will be 17, and that feels too old. I'd like him to feel part of a family of five, rather than that his parents had a new family around the time he left home. David will be nine. Again, that's a heck of a big age gap. Strategically, it feels much better to consider conceiving again right now.

The problem with deciding to conceive another baby is that it's rare for both people to be at the same place emotionally at the same time. It has not yet happened before to me. But one person does not really have the right to decide whether the other person should become a parent again. Looking at my friends' relationships, I think it takes one partner to be very laid back about the whole thing and leave the decision up to the other. In my experience it's usually the woman who decides when the family will be added to, or it's an accident. Genuine accidents seem like a real gift from my current position. Gone are the weeks and months of negotiating, wrangling and pleading. Genuine accidents must be quite rare, though - an accident implies that one partner was rather relaxed with contraception. Which Papa will never be.

I sometimes struggle not to be angry with him, because his veto is taking away my choice. I long to hold another of my babies in my arms. But I also appreciate his responsibility, and I love him. I don't want to have babies with anyone else. I feel out of control, and that is never a pleasant experience. But, ironically, I love him all the more for being sensible, and committed enough to me and the children to ensure that we are properly looked after.

Papa is not a bad man. If he could give me my heart's desire then he would. It's just not at any price.

He does not want to cause an argument or any bad feeling between us, so he listens to and indulges my discussions about you, dear child. He knows my feelings clearly. I wonder whether it'd be easier if he refused to discuss the issue and listen to what I had to say? That would be more disrespectful, and it would make me angry. However, his response would be clear. As it is, he listens patiently, and sometimes interjects with his own hopes and dreams. It could well be that he's taking his time and mulling things over. That's how it worked with David, after all. It took me six months of negotiations before we started trying to conceive a child. But this time? He says no but not never. He rolls his eyes and metaphorically pats me on the head when I talk to him about having another baby. I think he finds it endearing and irritating in equal measure. When - if ever - do I give up?

Mama x