After a lifetime of denial, I want a child so badly

I was so careful when young. That’s what I tell myself, and all who I speak with about my inability to concieve. The truth is I never was. I was not careful and it turns out it really never mattered. I never could get pregnant. What was a relief when you are young and carefree, becomes a spiteful spear to the soul. Now, older, wiser and with my biological alarm clock going off with no warning the year I turn 35 and right after having surgery to remove the diseased tissue that has ruined me for motherhood, I want a child. I don’t care if it’s mine or not. I don’t even honestly care if it is an infant. I just want a child. I am lower middle class, not married to my boyfriend of ten years and most likely not able to adopt. Also, I might add, he does not really seem to share my feelings. So, I live with this, like a holiday wish unfulfilled. The hurt like salt on my supper. Spicing my life, with a little bitterness, I have to swallow. I will always want you, child I will not be able to have. I will always know that.