Broody and Moody: It’s time for a change.

is a difficult post to write, because I think it’s a bit of a tough
subject. No way at all am I comparing my life to anyone who has
longed for, but never had a child, this post is completely focused on
the fact that I have two healthy, happy kiddies and I’m heartbroken
about the fact that I may not be able to have any more…

and I have had a hectic life since we got together in 2008, and after
having George and Molly in quick succession we weren’t in an
immediate hurry to extend our family, but over the past 2 years since
settling in South Wales after my father’s death, we’ve become jointly
and unabashedly broody. We knew the day would come, but we didn’t
know it would come with the same heartache I felt all those years ago
as we tried to make baby number one. It took time, and it was only
when we decided to stop worrying that George was created.
the past year the broody-ometer has hit sky high levels, but with it
the pang of pain has increased and the hope has begun to fade.
Recently after lots of tests my womb was cleared of any nasty stuff,
but I was told I lose an egg every 2-3 months which means there’s
nothing there to fertilise. This was pretty hard to hear, an
unexpected result when they’re checking for cancer, right?! Well,
naturally I headed into panic mode and our ‘enjoying sex’ turned into
‘trying hard for a baby sex’. The results also meant I talked more
about my broodiness which then led to tracking fertility, using
ovulation sticks, trying to be positive and in the end I became
miserable and I ended up feeling a LOT of guilt along the way.
wanted to write this for other mothers out there who feel guilt
because of their broodiness, and I may be alone but I kinda think I’m
not?! Who knows… But this is why I feel guilt and this is what I
plan to do about it…
feel guilt because I have two children already, so it sometimes feels
selfish and heartless to feel so sad about my own situation, when
there are so many people out there who are still trying for their
first child. I can never compare my situation with theirs, I can only
imagine their pain and I imagine it’s very different indeed.
feel guilt because I worry people think I don’t appreciate what I
already have. I adore George and Molly, but this natural, instinctive
want for more of Warren’s babies is just there, inside me, and no
matter what it’s not really going to go away. I think my children are
freakin’ awesome, and even the thought of someone thinking I’m
ungrateful to have them makes me want to cry.
feel guilt because I get sad. Every month, every time it’s a
negative, I feel so sad, and with it comes a wave of guilt for
bringing the mood down. ‘Trying’ for a baby is mentally exhausting,
and no matter how much you tell yourself it’ll be okay, the tears
still come.
feel guilt because I am sad when other people extend their families.
At first I feel a little jealous, then sad and then super happy, but
I can’t deny the sad feelings, and I shouldn’t have to because I
don’t think I’m alone.
I’ve started August in a different place. We aren’t going to stop
‘trying’ in terms of being intimate, but I am choosing to relax on all
other fronts. As I recently said to someone who asked me how the
‘baby making’ was going, the sex is good but the periods are not 😉
am going to stop testing, tracking and focusing all my energy on
ovulation and pregnancy. I am going to focus my energy on my kids.
The ones that are here and now, because you know what?! They’re still
my babies…
other night I realised how they don’t sit on my lap any more at
bedtime as I read stories. This blew my mind. I immediately scooped
them both up and winced at the pain in my knees as they sprawled
across me, legs and arms everywhere, and it was 100% worth it,
because we reconnected. It’s so hard as kids grow up because they
become more independent and opinionated, both things we want for our
children, but also things that glaze over the baby and toddler stages,
so as the years drift on by I’ve kinda forgotten to connect in this way with
going to stop and think a lot more. Think about my words and actions,
hold them more, read to them more, sing with them more, stop
overreacting, listen to them, kiss them and tell them I love them as
many times as I want to each and day…
no matter how broody I feel, no matter how much I want to cradle
another mini in my arms, I already have two before me. I just hadn’t
realised it.


  1. 10th August 2017 / 9:50 pm

    Kelly I have no idea what it must be like to want a baby and try so hard for one. I do not think it matters if you have two or ten. If the need is there then the monthly realisation that this month it is not happening must be awful. When I hit the menopause and realised that I could never have any more children (although mine were grown and I had never had the urge to have more) I was so sad. I surprised myself at the loss I felt. I know it is only a fraction of what you are feeling so enjoy what you have. Throw yourself into the joys of life and I will keep my fingers crossed that you have the baby you want so much xxx

  2. 10th August 2017 / 10:08 pm

    Sally, you've just made me cry. What a beautiful comment. I can imagine feeling the same when my menopause comes too, it's part of who we are, isn't it?! Your words are so kind and I really appreciate you saying such sweet things. I know I need to let fate take over now and enjoy the journey either way. Feels good to have put it out there though, a problem shared etc perhaps? X

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