So I was on my own with my babies, I loved it and at the ripe old age of 24 I decided that I had had enough of men. I was prepared and content to raise my daughters until they had their own lives, all grown up and able to look after themselves. Then, just maybe I would try to meet someone for me. I think they are called a ‘companion’ by that stage.
Only it didn’t happen like that.
Nothing ever really goes to plan.
My very best friend finally convinced me to have a night out with her, I hadn’t been out on the town for around 2 years at that stage, so I started to get excited.
She gave me the ‘what if you meet someone’ chat I highly doubted that I would considering my young age, and my three daughters. But I did give her a very specific, unrealistic list of the qualities this man must have if I were to meet one at all. Whilst laughing and sadly knowing I would NEVER find this man I told her. (After settling with certain traits and qualities in other men, I was going to be picky!)
I wanted a man who-
Was hot! (why not? I was dreaming)
He had to drive a Ute, but not be macho about it. (I’d had enough of pristine sedans)
He had to have a physical job.
He HAD to like kids.
Be a good family man.
Funny, but shy and not at all up himself.
Be VERY good in bed. (That was really important!)
He’d have to enjoy spending time with my family. (This sometimes is even difficult for me to do)
He had to like lollies.
He had to dislike scary movies.
He had to be older than me.
He had to be taller than me.
He had to have blue eyes.
He had to love pancakes.
The night we went out I met Glen.
I don’t think I need to tell you but he checked everything on my list. He was genuine and you could just see it, he’d make a corny joke and even though it was not funny I couldn’t help but laugh. He was adorable.
I loved him the moment I met him. He is my soul mate (not that I had ever been into that.) I’m the kind of person that thinks people meet, they like or dislike each other, they work or they don’t work, that’s really it. A companionship or two people moving in the same general direction. But now I know differently.
I move in Glen’s direction and he moves in mine. We are the one person.
Finally I was in love.
And guess what? He fell in love too. With me. With my girls.
In the beginning it was a little tough. I refused to let him meet my girls so early on, I wanted to get to know him before I took that step, though I was looking forward to the meeting because I knew he was the one for me.
He was me, only with a penis!
Glen would turn up to my house at 8pm after my girls had all been put to bed and were sound asleep. We’d sit up late talking, watching telly and eating very late dinners together. Technically Glen did meet Violet. She was only 3 months old and still sleeping in a cot in my room, the first time I introduced them while she was sleeping he just stared at her, like a father does with his own new-born. He looked at me smiling. We’d lay in bed and he’d ask me if we should check on her if we hadn’t heard her for a while, he also wanted us to check on her if she DID make a sound.
At 5am we’d get up and have a cup of tea and chat before I made him leave. But one morning we were sitting chatting quietly when a small voice was heard from the kitchen. It was Bella. ‘Mum who’s that?’ she asked with a smirk. I told her that it was my friend Glen and introduced them. So that was that. It was out.
We decided to all spend the day together, we went to the park and beach and had lunch together.
It was such a great day the girls loved Glen instantly and I was amazed at how natural it all came to Glen he was a born parent too, just like me. He wasn’t afraid or scared and treated them all like equals. Glen practically moved into our house that day.
He proposed at 2am 3 weeks later.
I said yes.
We were to be married in October, but 3 months later I was on the verge of panic attack again.
I was pregnant!
It had happened the night of our farewell party a couple of weeks before we moved interstate for work.
So we didn’t get married that October.
So this is Molly my meant to be baby. Not that my other girls were not ‘meant to be’ but Bella, Sophie, and Violet were all born with their cords choking them, none of them breathing. Molly had no such problems which I had worried about. I think I read too much into everything -I know I do- But her birth was smooth and easy and she had such an easy start to life. She was meant to be.
So here we were a mis-matched yet happy little family. We are all certainly individuals but we all fit and all belong, we are not whole if one of us were not here.
This is not the end.
We decided on one more baby.
Partly because I have a phobia of equal numbers but mostly because we had some room, in our home, and in our hearts. We had just one more spot to fill and this May/June it will be filled.
We will be having baby number 5 in May/June (our Ultrasound Monday will let us know for sure)and getting married too.
We’ll be complete.
We were all made for this one family. I wouldn’t change it, I couldn’t change it. It was meant to be.
I have never been happier, my girls have never been happier.
I do now believe that everything happens for a reason and I know that everyone will eventually come to a point like I have and realise all the little fortunate accidents that have brought them to this one spectacular moment when they can say ‘my life has begun.’
Not only am I now on the right path, I’m running along it will a smile and complete contentment.