I've always thought I'd have three children. It's always been the DNA of my dreams.
I'm from three girls, and I thought that I too would have three children.
And now here I am, 35, the bread winner, and with a nine year old and a six and a half year old. And no third.
I still have the strong desire for a third, and talk incessantly to Matt about having a baby, but the further we get away - the further that feels more like it's a dream and less like it's going to be a reality.
And before anyone gets their panties in a twist and tells me how lucky I am to have two healthy, happy children - I already know. I am everyday grateful for this. They are the BEST thing I have ever done. But it doesn't make me pang any less for that third.
This weekend we've been tidying up our house because our real estate agent has told us they're doing a routine inspection (apparently their routine is every years because that's how long it's been since the last one).
I've been trying to get ruthless, but really struggling with getting rid of things. I've got a bag full of clothes ready to go to charity, but what's really hard is letting go of toddler toys.
It's those things I painfully saved for when we had very little money, and buying something new for my smalls was a big deal. But it's not the money that I am thinking of, it's the memories of my two playing with those things, and the thought that I may not have another to play with them. So is it time to let these things go?
I often get people telling me we should just have another, money doesn't matter - except it does.
I'm the breadwinner, and I've talked previously about the burden of this role. I've tried to retrain my mind and think of it as what an honour it is to provide for my family, but the reality is, I miss being home.
If I didn't work, we wouldn't be able to live. End of story.
I had a funny discussion a few weeks ago with a female family member who declared something along the lines that women get bored being stay at home mums. I think I blew her skirt up when I flipped everything around and told her I would love to be a stay at home mum, or at least home more often mum.
I don't romanticise being a stay at home mum, I was lucky enough to do it for a short period when the Doctor was small - it's hard, monotonous work, but just being with my kids - well that would fill up my buckets.
For now, I'm going to keep trying to declutter in increments. It's less painful that way.