If someone had asked me six months ago if I wanted a third child, my answer would have been a very hopeful "Yes". Ask me today, and I'm not sure I want to start over again. I think a lot of my reasoning six months ago was that SIX ladies in my "circle" were all expecting. So, of course, seeing their bellies and holding their tiny bundles definitely pulled on the heartstrings of my womb. Now that they have all had their babies and things are getting back to normal, I'm not so sure I want to go back to midnight feedings and fussy gas and spit up. I know those things are short lived, but for that little while, they can seem unbearable. And as of right this moment, I've got the two-kid-thing down (most of the time) and some days, I even feel like I'm getting ahead. So why would I want to jump into those newborn waters again? I'd have to be nuts!
And I didn't even mention the pregnancy part! I know for some women, it's the best time of their lives, but for me, not so much. I don't particularly enjoy seeing my breakfast, lunch and dinner for a second time for six months straight. And I also don't love so much the heartburn, leg cramps and kicks in the ribs. If I could just skip the whole pregnancy and do the labor and delivery, I'd do it in a heartbeat! That part I actually kinda enjoy. I know, I should be committed.
Then again... I miss having a little bundle. And I miss feeling a baby roll in my belly, knowing all the while he's in there, I'm the only one caring and nurturing him. That's an awesome feeling. I miss seeing those first smiles and coos and figuring out who a baby looks like. I miss breastfeeding and baby-wearing. I would also love the chance to have a little girl. I have even dreamed about her and her image is one that has never fully gone away. She even has a name. And every time I think about her, I well up.
So you might ask, "Why so torn?" The reason is because I haven't mentioned the whole "husband" part of the equation. Until last week, Derek was adamant about not having any more children. He let me know soon after Evan was born that he was content with having two boys and no more. We had even talked about him going ahead with the vasectomy we have planned for after his 30th birthday (three years from now). And knowing how he felt, I had relegated my (slightly crushed) feelings to the "never gonna happen" pile in my head and heart and had actually learned to be content knowing that two was it. And after a few really trying days in the past few months, I have even been thankful that we only have two.
Well, last week, while I was gone on a trip to Florida, he mentioned to me that he was having a feeling that it wouldn't be so bad if I were to "accidentally" get pregnant again. How do you drop something like that over the phone?! I asked what he had done with my husband. I also said we'd talk about it more when I got home. An in the week since I've been back, he keeps dropping hints about "the chance to have a girl" and not ''suiting up before the game'' anymore. Oh, men and their metaphors.. And now I'm completely confused and don't know how to feel at all. Do I dare to hope for another child? Or do I hold off because, deep down, I know that if I were to give in to the feelings I already feel starting to creep back into my heart, he will change his mind and then I'd be crushed again. What to do, what to do.