I wonder why nature works this way. Why it couldn't have assigned what I know about myself to someone else.

You see, I suspect I was created to bear children by the dozen. I've got the childbearing hips, I've got the build. I seem to be extremely fertile (as one friend says, hanging my underwear on the washing line next to a guy's could get me pregnant!). I loved being pregnant - even with 6 months of morning sickness. I gave birth after a mere 2 hours of uneventful labour, and with no complications. After 10 years of injectable contraceptive use, it's taken a mere 3 months for my body to regularize and normalize, back to it's monthly cycle without a single hitch. All indications that I could be the bearer of many babies. That the image of a large family burned into my brain might also be burned into my genes.

But, as the same friend says, she was made to bear many, but not mother many...

And here I am, a single woman, wasting all this fertility. While some married women try for years and years to conceive, go through fertility treatments, fall into anguish over their desire to have babies.

What a terrible, terrible paradox.