IF my aunt had balls.....

December will mark four years since our first pregnancy.

IF that pregnancy had lasted, we'd have a 3 year old.

IF the next one had worked out, we'd have an almost 3 year old.

IF the third pregnancy had been successful, we'd have a two and a half year old.

IF the fourth hadn't failed, we'd have just celebrated our baby's second birthday.

IF the fifth pregnancy hadn't been in my tube, Cletus would be three months old.

IF the sixth pregnancy had lasted, I'd be showing and damned proud of it.

IF the seventh pregnancy had stuck around, I'd be looking at ultrasound pictures and planning how to break the news to the fam.

IF, IF, IF.

If we hadn't enjoyed our child free life - travelling, eating out, fixing up our house, we'd be able to afford treatment or adoption RIGHT NOW.

IF I hadn't been a smoker for several years, maybe none of this would have happened.

IF I hadn't had sex until marriage, IF I hadn't planned my life out, I'd have gotten knocked up accidentally.

IF, IF, IF.

IF I believed in god, went to church, bowed down like a good christian, I'd be blessed by now.

IF none of this had happened, I'd have more friends, and better relationships with the people I love.

IF I were a better person - a better wife, daughter, sister, aunt, cousin, friend - maybe I'd get to be a mother too.

IF I hadn't already lived through so much god damned suffering, I wouldn't expect my luck to change.

IF, IF, IF.

But, in the immortal words of my grandma Vincenza, if my aunt had balls, she'd be my uncle.

IF doesn't mean a damned thing - it is what it is.

Four fucking years.