Three days ago I decided I was ready for another baby. Then yesterday I changed my mind. Today I feel indifferent. And that’s only the last three days, folks. This yes-no-maybe so baby pendulum has been swinging back and forth for a couple of years now.
Unless you’ve been living under a pile of laundry (hey, it happens), you’ve read Babble blogger Chaunie Brusie’s viral post about how she’s afraid to stop having babies. I felt that way once upon a time, too. Back when I was younger. Back before two miscarriages. Back when growing our family was just one of the many ways my husband and I were growing in our marriage, growing in our careers, and growing in our wants and desires.
But it didn’t take long before we were all grown up and all grown out with two young kids and two merciless careers that didn’t allow us much time to enjoy our growing family. “No more babies,” we’d whisper in passing as we took turns caring for a hard-partying infant or fevering toddler at 2am.
“But you just have to try for a daughter!” people would tell us. Try for a daughter? We could hardly manage the children we had. At a time when our kids were the first ones to be dropped off at daycare and the last ones to be picked up, we wondered how we would ever manage a third, no matter how desperately we wanted to. But we couldn’t help but think someday. Someday when life calmed down a little. Someday when our kids were a bit older. Someday when I was finally able to leave my job — then we’d have another baby.
And then one day that someday arrived. When I left my job to focus on our family, things became a whole lot simpler. And we loved it. We’re still loving it nearly three years later. And perhaps we’re loving it a little too much, because even though now is the perfect time for our someday baby, something unexpected is standing in our way.