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It's interesting how most of us reject the word "complete". I think this is a product of modern society, where everyone must be independent and self-reliant, every (wo)man for himself and all that. Also, no-one likes to think that something is "missing" from their lives. If you are incomplete then there is some part of you that is missing or needs to be filled by something outside yourself.
For myself I have had times in my life when I felt something was missing. I'm sure a time will come when I feel I want to have a child, and if I don't then that element which I wish for my life will be missing. Maybe I will be incomplete in that moment if I don't have a child. But the thing is, that missing part will probably be filled by something else that will make me "happy". That is all part of the adaptability of humans and also our ability to come to terms with loss or "incompletion".
I would love to have a child, because I have never thought that I didn't want one, and that is just a simple desire that I have. I want to go through that experience because it will surely be life-changing and make me learn so much about myself and others. I also like the idea of having someone who is part me, part my SO, and who I can love unconditionally, or at least try, and have the same from them too. I want to grow old and see my babies grow and live their own lives and create their own goals and fulfill their own dreams. It must be almost magical in its simplicity. I also hope that if I never have children, that I find the strength in me to move on and continue dreaming and find "completion" in other small pleasures.
That said, you must think I'm one of those women sweetpea is talking about who feel they have to have a child to be complete. That is not what I mean. It's simple: I want to have children, and I think it will be a good thing in my life. But if I do not have any, I hope to still feel complete in myself.
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Whether we write or speak or do but look
We are ever unapparent. What we are
Cannot be transfused into word or book.
Our soul from us is infinitely far.
However much we give our thoughts the will
To be our soul and gesture it abroad,
Our hearts are incommunicable still.
In what we show ourselves we are ignored.
The abyss from soul to soul cannot be bridged
By any skill of thought or trick of seeming.
Unto our very selves we are abridged
When we would utter to our thought our being.
We are our dreams of ourselves, souls by gleams,
And each to each other dreams of others' dreams.
Fernando Pessoa, 1918
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