That time has come again. My tiny helpless baby is now a fearsome toddler. And naturally that has left me broody and nostalgic. I can't help but wonder if I really want another baby right now, or if I am yearning for those moments past.
As part of the grand plan, I definitely want three children. Actually, that should be prefixed with "at least". When I see other mamas with huuuuge families, I don't think "you must be barking". I think "I'd like that." Followed by "blimey, their house must be noisy....." As an only child, I always felt I was missing out on something. The family home was far to quiet and orderly. The summer holidays were a long and lonely ordeal.I envied my friends with siblings to keep them company, even for just someone to torment.
When Boy Wonder came along. the plan was to leave a good gap between him and the next baby. We didn't take into account any issues with conceiving so it ended up taking rather longer than we anticipated. After Miss Fearsome's arrival, Husband started professing his contentment with two children. We had a perfect nuclear family. But the problem was, I had spent my entire pregnancy quite safe in the knowledge that there would be another baby. That this was not my last. And now I feel a little like I didn't make the most of those opportunities.
Also, my approach to parenting has changed radically since sprog #2 came along. I'm altogether more relaxed and confident. I would quite like to be able to apply my newfound attitude to a newborn, rather than spending the latter part of my pregnancy quite certain that i am heading straight into a serious mental collapse.
But most of all, I yearn to have a tiny snuffling baby to nurse again. It didn't occur to me how important breastfeeding would become to me, or how much I would mourn it when Miss Fearsome inevitably became far too independant to attach herself to me anymore. I miss those night feeds where the world is still and the only noises are the distant traffic and your newborn at your breast. I absolutely pine for it
It has to be said, for a man who doesn't want any more children, his approach is lackadaisical at best. I do instruct him clearly the times where he should be "steering clear" but men will be men. But then part of me feels extremely responsible. Like because I know he's said he doesn't want more kids that I should abstain as he can't be trusted to know what's good for him. But the man's a grownup.
There is the other matter of age gaps. If I were to have another baby, I wouldn't want a newborn and a toddler. I've had friends do this and they are all miserable and exhausted. So I would have to wait another year or so. But then the biological clock kicks in. I've never heard the ticking before, it's a new thing. But it's there. And it's very powerful. Particularly since being diagnosed with fertility problems, that adds a whole layer of problems to the waiting game. What if we leave it too late and I can't get pregnant?
And what if Husband properly puts his foot down and says no more. What will I do then? Because the thought of not having any more babies makes me sadder than I ever thought possible, But then I have two happy and healthy children, a lovely Husband and a nice home. Is there such a thing as pushing your luck? Because I think I am now. .
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