I was thinking, a day or two back, about what the important part of being a mother is to me.
I was thinking about what might be necessary, to be able to walk that road of living children.
And what I realised is that I want to experience pregnancy.
I want to experience carrying a child. I want to experience feeling it move inside me. I want to feel it kick. I want to look down and see a proper belly, not just the slight swelling that had more to do with too much cake and biscuits than an actual baby.
I want to actually hear a heartbeat.
Genetics? Not so important. I even started wondering if one of my sisters would donate eggs, if it came to that. I'd like it to be D's baby, but genetically mine? Nice, but not essential.
I realise that I might not get a choice in all this.
I realise that - like someone who really wants to experience natural childbirth but ends up with an emergency caesarean - the important thing is that you end up with a living child. If you get the prize, it doesn't really matter how.
So I realise that wanting this experience doesn't mean I will get it.
But I'm willing to fight for it.
I don't want my last experience, or memory, of pregnancy to be the knowledge that I had been walking round unaware with a four-weeks-dead baby inside me.