The moral of the story

So, what's the moral of the story? To never count ones chickens, it's as simple as that. To think that I had become so convinced, so worried, jumping to such massive conclusions when nothing was actually proved yet...what a sad state of affairs I realise. What does this mean? Am I disappointed that I'm not? 

There is a big bit of me that wonders if maybe I was but then I lost it. Possibly, I will never know. But really I suppose I just wanted it to be the case and misread my own body's signals. My thoughts are a bit clouded from the general time-of-the-month shoddyness, but I know in a couple of days time when it subsides, I'll feel much better about it all. I do want children one day and soon, but it's a conversation that I need to have with Chris first, this isn't only my decision to make. Plus, we need to be a bit more prepared, be in a more suitable home, save a bit more. In an ideal world, I'd love to be married first. I think my parents would want that to. 
The London life dictates that I have a few more years of being just us two to enjoy before embarking on a family, though I do want to go against it in many ways. But I shouldn't rush, if it will be it will be.

 

I'm glad I didn't go in all guns blazing and tell Chris what I was worried about. I mean, yes it's good to talk about worries but not if they are unnecessary ones. In this case at least, I can imagine what I would like the outcome to be. And yesterday when I looked into his eyes, I liked to think that he would have stayed had the fearful situation presented itself. For now, that's all it can really be, just a distant thought. We deserve a better story for our children anyway, I don't want to feel that they were ever an accident, i'd want it to be something that we were both ready for. 

 

So, back to normal now then?