The big tragedy of my life (besides my wonderful dad dying six years ago, but that's a whole other Oprah) is that I've been married for almost nine years to a great husband, we're good, fairly normal people, but we don't have kids. Same story as thousands of other childless couples. We don't have the money for the fancy medical assistance or adoption. I'm 39, so you can imagine this is on my mind a lot.
I work someplace where it would be extremely convenient to go through the process of foster parenting, but we're both a little leery of that whole system. It could end in adoption but it could also involve all sorts of bullshit and heartache.
I've also thought about doing the Big Brother/Big Sister program, but again, I'm sort of a chickenshit. Kids love me and I get along with them really well. I love kids. But I don't know.
Sometimes it just really makes me sad to know that there's a good chance we might go through life without ever being parents and we'd be good ones. Really sad.
I should consider myself lucky I have a good husband who is kind and who loves me and we have a roof over our heads and a full refrigerator (except not right now - I've GOT to go grocery shopping today). But still, you know. It sucks sometimes. And by sometimes I mean a lot.
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