I Want Babies In My Life So Badly

I married at 38 to a 45 year old divorced man, no children. My career was my life and I had no intentions of children. Fine with him, why bother? What I didn't know, and wasn't on the disclosures, is that he had this affair going with a young woman in his office. Hush hush but real. He disappeared sometimes after work to service her and came home with distant eyes and ready for bed. It was a friend, a woman, who told me he was having an affair.

Break up, divorce, now? I confronted him and he told me it was true, but as it had been going on for five years before I met him it wasn't technically running around on me. More like he ran around on her to marry me. Plus, she is so damn cute, a precious little thing, she needs someone to take care of her. Right? Well I met her, first she isn't a precious little thing, she's all of five foot seven and 145 pounds and works out three times a week. Second she is all woman, doesn't need her 'daddy' to take care of her. She is cute, or rather she is very good looking. Nice arm candy for an older man.

After meeting her I went through all sorts of doubts and questions. OK, I would accept it, and let it run it's course. He was 45 and surely she would wake up one day and move on. But 45 turned 48 and she was still on his arm, and she turned 30. I took her to lunch for her birthday. Afterall we are modern women, a little affair can't possibly get in the way of two women. How and why the topic of children came up, I brought it up, I don't know. I asked her point blank if she planned to have children, the clock was ticking. I held myself up as an example, wait too long and that ship has sailed. She should think about getting pregnant.

Not for one second, not a millisecond, did it ever cross my mind that she wouldn't get pregnant by husband. She says he is too old, she doesn't want children when the father is going to be seventy when they finish college. I lost it, quietly, and I told her in a deep whisper he wasn't too old for her, he could get it up and she could get pregnant. Just get off those damn p!lls, I wanted grandchildren (and she was my only ticket to grandbabies, I had thrown my ticket away and I was clinging).

She told me that she was trying. She was trying, but nothing was happening. I told her to try harder, count her days and make sure that she is available on the right days of the month. She is thirty, time to stop playing around and get to work. We made a calendar, and we followed it religiously, he was to service her on the right days, come hell or high water.

When she told me that she was pregnant, she had checked with a doctor, I went off the end as to why she hadn't told me sooner. Weren't we in this together, weren't WE getting pregnant? This is OUR baby, OURs. I won't say I got over involved, I did. I rubbed her belly every chance I got, I kissed her belly every time I got. I worshiped her belly as it got bigger and bigger. Big bellied pregnant girls are the most beautiful girls in the world. When OUR baby slipped out and came into the world I held her and cried and told her I loved her. I loved her sight unseen, I was already in love with her.

I don't care how old he is going to be when this girl turns 18 or goes to college. I only know that with every ounce of my being we will try for another one, a sibling for her. I want a baby brother. That's all I want for Christmas. We know how they are made, it's just a matter of getting with it. I will quit my job and take care of them. To hell with my career, I have babies to raise.