All alarming things also come to an end....

The thought of finding myself pregnant again at 43 fills me with dread. And yet, at some level, the thought of consciously permanently preventing it also makes me feel, well, OLD. Like I've suddenly taken the hyperspace route to cronedom.

And so, when we discussed it this past week, my hubby and I decided it was time to put an end to the madness. Neither one of us wants to go through the sleepless nights of a newborn again at our age. As much as I wish that my life had been one that permitted me to have a whole houseful of children, I just need to thank God for the one He allowed me, and accept that this phase of my life is at an end.

I expect there to be some anguish and mourning as the next events unfold, and then some relief at not having to worry so much each month about Oh Dear God, am I?

I imagine I'll need to talk about it some. I feel in good company, since my hero Antique Mommy has also just gone through this milestone.