Almost 5 years ago I found out I was unexpectedly pregnant. I didn’t really want the baby at first, my marriage was in trouble, I was 41, my other kids were almost grown. But I did it anyway, bc although I sorry about choice, u couldn’t do it myself.
Now, I’m almost 46, I have an autoimmune disease, and a 4 year old who is both adorable and autistic.
I will likely never stop taking care of him.
And I’m just tired. And mourning the empty nest I will never have. The traveling that I will never be able to do with a high medical need child. We have been married for 21 years, and been parenting/pregnant for 20.5 of those years. We will never have “our time.”
And I don’t get to publicly be sad or regretful because no matter how crappy I think I have it, I recognize that my child who has to live in a confusing world that is scary and loud has it way harder than me.