From my other journal, dated July 15, 2002

My oldest had his fourteenth birthday a few days ago and it really blows me away. It doesn't feel like I've had him around for fourteen years. It seems like just a few hours ago that we were wheeled up to the recovery room together while 18 firefighters injured in a huge fire suffered in the emergency wing directly under us. A few of them died. That kind of haunts me sometimes, that I was bringing life into the world in the exact same moment that someone else's was being taken away. I'm sure it happens every day but not everyone is aware of it.

He was so small. 6 pounds 4&1/2 ounces. So beautiful. His eyes were open the whole time we were on the way upstairs and looked impossibly deep and silvery blue. We kind of stared at one another and bonded. The confused expression on a newborn baby's face is so comical to me. They always have that look of man, what the hell just happened to me?

I don't know how anyone could ever not fall immediately and permanently in love with one of those little things, especially their own. By the very nature of their helplessness and fragile beauty they invoke feelings of love and a desire to protect.

I don't know how anyone could ever be so cruel as to neglect or harm one of them. How can a person who has done that live with themselves? How can you feel good about causing the harm or death of someone who only exists to be loved and love you back, the person who needs you so utterly and has no way to defend him/herself? How can you feel good about neglecting him or her?

I could go on about that all night so I'll stop here.

All of those years Calvin and I were at a standoff because he didn't want more children and promised me we'd have them because he knew I wanted a family and there was no way I'd stay with him in that horrible, abusive situation if I knew he didn't. Nine years is a long time to waste waiting for someone to love you and fulfill their promises. In retrospect the fact that we never had any more babies other than John is a really good thing. Going through that divorce with just one child was difficult enough. But he kept promising.

When we get a place of our own.

When we get this car paid off.

When Gene (my former stepson), moves out.

When we move back to Maryland.

All of those things came and went several times with no action taken to make good on his promise. He knew when he married me I wanted a large family.

Larry and I tried to have one. We wanted five or six babies but had to stop at two when I developed diabetes. Those last two pregnancies were so hard on me. I didn't want any more after the last one but now I'm not so sure. I think I could do it one more time if I were careful. It's too late now though. The surgery is irreversible. It's kind of sad when I think about it because we wanted to have a huge family and I feel as if I've let him down a bit. I may have been diabetic before I even got pregnant and not known it, but the fact that we found out during a pregnancy made it twice as hard to deal with.

Devastating.

I shouldn't be too sad about it though. There are people who are far worse off than I am, people who can't have children and for one reason or another can't adopt. I have three children so I understand that I really have been blessed. And I have Larry which is even more wonderful because he is so incredibly good to me. He's always been far better than I deserve, far kinder and more patient with my little odd and nervous habits (tapping, picking at my nails), than anyone should have to be. He knows about the weird little things I do. He knows about my anxiety and my nervousness and he loves me in spite of it all. Without him my life would be unbearable, just like it was before. I love him so much and I love my babies.

But I still wish I could do it just once more.

Four babies would be nice.