I'm feeling very vulnerable today for a variety of reasons. I want to close into my little cave and never come out. It was absolutely everything I could do to wake up and come into work with a smile on my face.

My birthday is next week. I've always looked forward like a giddy school girl to my birthday. Age has never really bothered me. I look back on my life and think I've done a lot in my time her so far. My accomplishments are to be proud of, and while I don't like to bellow it from the rooftops, I can smile looking back. Certainly not to say I've not had my battles...more than I'd like to admit, actually but even the darkest days have given rise to a higher moment.

But this one. This 37. It is just not sitting right. I am not getting my head around it very well. My friend likes to tease me that she had the baby but I gained the postpartum. Ever since Little C was born, I am feeling very antsy.

For the longest time, I was under the belief that I could not have children. At first, it was a very difficult thing to overcome. I love children dearly and I'm never happier than when I'm with the little ones. They are so open and honest, and non-judgemental. They don't talk about you behind your back and they are so true in every way. But some people are just made to be Aunties and that is me. I came to accept my infertility as an 'unanswered prayer'. I was the one that got to spoil the wee ones and then go home. The children for other people, and I didn't have to worry and stress over the raising of a child of my own.

Now, with the variety of tests I've been through recently with my 'girl parts', it has turned out that the doctor who advised me back in 2001 was incorrect. There is nothing physically wrong that cannot be easily corrected.

I've spent 7 years accepting this and knowing that parenthood is not for me. Then this revelation has pushed me into a dark abyss that I had no idea I could even find. It's been my shield, my bubble in any burgeoning relationship. Telling that possible person in my life was a good way of weeding out the true from the not so true.

Now I'm faced with a myriad of questions that I have no idea how to even begin to work out. Do I actually want children? Part of me thinks I'm not so sure. I certainly could not do it alone. I pride those who can, but it's not me. It couldn't be me. Part of me thinks wistfully of a future without ever having that immaculate joy that my best friend is now experiencing and it makes me profoundly sad.

But now I'm 37. Or will be next week. Time is ticking. Actually, when I told a friend the other night about that, that was his first comment 'Tick Tock'. Ouch.

Even if I met someone today, which of course is entirely unlikely, it would be a long time until we were ready to have 'that talk'.

I'm grappling with the fact that I've lost 7 years of my life accepting myself as someone I'm not. Something I'm not. So much has been based on this one fact that I'm having difficulty even beginning to know where to start dealing with it.

I'm angry. Angry at the doctor for not being more thorough and just simply diagnosing me too quickly. Angry at myself for not pursing it. I should be happy that I've been told things are normal, or at least normal enough but I'm not.

Even typing this I'm cringing. While I know I have some very good and supportive friends that read here, I am well aware of the fact that this is 'public'. But at the same time, sometimes good can come of reaching out, right?