So far, being around babies hasn’t bothered me at all. In fact, I love it. I love their chubby little hands and how tiny they are and the way they smell and pretty much everything about holding a baby even if I do have to give them back eventually (like when they bursts into tears for mommy).
I’m even willing to admit that there are times I’m relieved to have the option of handing them back.Â
The one thing that has started bothering me recently is that the way I see my husband looking at these babies has changed.  He looks…interested. If I am holding a baby he will come over and stand next to me and coo over it.  A couple years ago he would stand as far away from small children as possible, as though they might break if he breathed too hard near them. Now he voluntarily coos over a baby?Â
It kind of reminded me of the time I saw my dad playing with other people’s grandchildren and it made me realize that he really wanted some grandbabies of his own asap.
That’s what’s hard. Knowing that I’m failing to give my husband a baby he wants, failing to give my family the grandchild they want, failing myself…wondering why I got stuck with such a fucked up piece of shit body that keeps letting down everyone I love.