As I enjoy this quiet, peaceful, sunny Sunday morning – I am aware of those who are celebrating Mother’s Day. I called my mother bright and early this morning and treasure our hodge podge conversation (between our mutual pauses to do laundry). But, now as the day stretches ahead, and reading a wonderful post of one of my ‘women I admire’ I am reflecting on my own childlessness. You will find her post above this one but this was my response to her. “Hi, WychieWoman (my Twitter name) here – our marriage experiences were the same – in my case, I became pregnant 3 times – a mix of my O-neg blood type and my ex smoking constantly around me – I suffered 3 miscarriages. In the days after my ex’s arrest and the horrible, mind numb, zombie like existence I had I honestly believe that the Goddess in her wisdom wisely was preparing for the future – my ex would not have been a good parent and co-parenting with him would have been a nightmare (a power struggle in which he would use any child against me) that no one would ever want a child to experience. As I am a full 10 yrs older than you (celebrating 44 at the end of this month) the reality of my never having children is present like a ghostly presence in the room. It walks beside me as I interact with other’s children, when I feel bittersweet on Mother’s day and when I look ahead to the years to come. I kept childhood favourite books, toys, and ideas storing them up for ‘when I have kids’. All this energy, planning, hope circles around me like smokey hint of a scent that you can’t identify me. Thank you for sharing as you elicited a pause of reflection for my own childlessness state.” What I enjoy most about reading other’s blogs is the moments of insight that are provoked by the generosity of openness that these people allow.