I wasn't supposed to be a widow, you know. It's not that I had a plan, that I was set on being something else - a rock star, a doctor, an astronaut. No, there wasn't a plan, per se. I drifted through things, taking jobs that I fell into, doing this and that. Karl and I had that in common. We both tried on lots of possible futures, and if you asked us at any point what we planned, we'd waffle a bit and give you quite a few options.

I didn't have a strong vision of my life, but I did suppose sometimes - I supposed I would be a responsible adult. I might make a career out of this art thing, or perhaps go to trade school and become a carpenter. Or law school. Then again, I might just get a desk job, or management... something that paid the bills, but I didn't have to take home at night.

I never really knew what I'd be, professionally, but I always knew one day I'd be a mother. Elliot was a forgone conclusion my whole life, and the best thing I've ever done. The only thing that could match him would be a sibling.

Which I've actually been thinking a lot about.

In my more reckless moments, I consider getting pregnant. Not heading to a bar and picking up some guy with good looks and a quick wit and then... oops! That's really not my style. More like finding a friend willing to donate, or finding an anonymous donor through an agency. But really when I think back on my pregnancy with Elliot - the flat out exhaustion I felt so much of the time - I can't imagine taking care of him through that. And then there's caring for an infant, which means trading sleeping for non-stop feedings, changings, comforting, cuddling, and bonding. All the while trying to maintain the level of commitment I have to El - yeah. Not likely to happen as long as I'm single.

The more responsible thing (also more realistic) would be adoption. But that's a path full of it's own tangled messes. Domestic and international adoptions of infants and toddlers seem to heavily favor married couples. They also seem to be expensive, complicated, and often frustrating. Not that they aren't ultimately incredibly rewarding as well, but again, I have concerns about keeping Elliot's environment happy and healthy, and a stressed out mommy, well, that makes it rough.

We were out yesterday and came across the Missouri Heart Gallery organization, which works to find adoptive homes for kids. I spoke to the ladies at the table there for a bit, and I'm considering taking the 9 week course for foster parenting in Missouri.

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Time Lapse goes here - me running around like mad for a day, finally returning to the computer.

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So yeah, maybe another kid. Maybe not. But it's out there in the universe, and we'll see what it brings us.