A few weeks ago, the handy little iPhone app that lets me know when that time of the month is upon me (as if the mood swings and cravings weren’t enough of an indication) let me know that I should be expecting confirmation of my non-pregnancy at any moment. However, I ended up being approximately 5 days late and that of course led to me running through the what ifs in my mind. Although I didn’t really believe I was pregnant, in my case, there is always that chance.
A long time ago (13 years now), after discovering that I was pregnant with K-Girl, I had decided that I only wanted one child… although in childhood I wanted a very big family (think 15 or so children). I was discovering that they were SO much work! Of course at 19 and with no friends who were going through the same thing I was lacking the support group that new mothers and families need so desperately. Anyway, after I worked through some of the initial hardship of having a baby, I knew that I couldn’t very well allow her to be an only child. We consciously made the decision to have our second child, and getting pregnant didn’t take long at all. We then talked about having 4 children. I didn’t want an odd number because then we would have a middle child. So it was either 2 or 4 in my mind. We decided even though we’d need a bigger vehicle, etc. 4 was the number we wanted to complete our family.
After our R (our 2nd daughter) was a couple years old, we tried to have another. This obviously didn’t work out (as we still only have 2 children), but was for the best at that moment in our life I’m sure. Addiction was taking hold though I was really unaware of it still and Sean and I ended up split up for 3 years in which I really didn’t know that we would get back together again. Things could’ve ended up very, very differently.
Anyway, I’ve never really felt sure that I am done having children. In fact, I think that being a mother, is one of the things I do pretty darn well. I’m not perfect… Who is? But I am open and honest with my children. I love them fiercely, intensely, and unconditionally. I still do get pangs when I hold other people’s newborns and when I get to hang out with a toddler or preschooler one on one, I feel totally in my element. But when I babysit my family’s young ones for entire days, I feel like that is probably the best birth control there could possible be. They are all great kids whom I adore, but they are SO much work! (This is obviously different when they are your own because you know their cues, their routines, their triggers, etc.)
So when put into the situation of being 5 days late, I go through the various emotions. At first I think, oh no, what have I done?! I don’t want another child, babysitting is hard enough! Sleepless nights, dirty diapers, an infant that cannot communicate with words… And then I start thinking about how I could do this, another baby… Sure. I’m only turning 33 this year. I know R (our youngest) is turning 10, but we could do this again. Sean’s a great dad who unabashedly loves his children and will do anything for them. Together we make a great parenting team. And on and on my mind goes pulling out any of the positives I can think of as to why it would be great to have another baby.
And then, of course, I find out for sure that I’m not pregnant at all. And although I suspected that I couldn’t really be, I still let my imagination get carried away. And with that confirmation I am filled with so many emotions. Relief, sure. But at the same time longing and disappointment. It’s not that I don’t feel like my family is wonderful the way it is. Trust me, it is. I’m constantly awed by the fact that we’ve carved out such an amazing experience for ourselves. But at the same time, I’m not opposed to sharing that life and learning from another brand new (to me) soul.
Who knew being late, would still conjure up so many emotions as I move further into my 30s?