The question of more

I am lucky that I don’t get asked the question, “Will you guys have another child?”  I am not sure if this type of probing question is less prevalent once you already have a kid, or whether this is me-specific.  Whatever the reason, I am grateful.

I think about it.  Joe and I talk about it.  Every few months, we mull the subject over, poking and prodding our feelings to determine how they are changing.  We had both assumed, pre-baby, that we would have two or three children.  After the first pregnancy and subsequent miscarriage, we felt lucky to have one child.  Since Jack has been born, parenthood has been so all-consuming that we still feel that a spacing of 4-5 years is right for us, if there is another child in our future.  Now that Jack is finally sleeping through the night most nights, I often think, “Why would I ever want to go back to those newborn days?”  I didn’t quite hate the newborn stage, but I can’t imagine having to split my attention between a toddler and a newborn.  Jack as a newborn took ALL of my energy and attention, and I would classify him as an easy baby.  What if a second child had colic?

Even with 15+ months under our parenting belts, we still feel somewhat like newbies.  And while we mostly have things under control when it comes to Jack, our apartment and our pets are suffering.  We are lucky that the cats are on the fat side because yes, sometimes we forget to feed them.  I came home from work last night, looked around at the mess Hurricane Jack had left behind, and said to Joe, “This place is a disaster area!”  He said we’d clean it.  How much did we get done?  I managed to pick cheerios up off the floor and load the dishwasher before hitting the sack at 9 or so…

So, for now, and possibly forever, one is good.  We don’t feel like we’re missing anything, although Joe does yearn to hold an infant (it’s a good thing we have family and friends due any day).  If we never give Jack a sibling, that’s okay!

2 thoughts on “The question of more”

  1. I go back and forth, but I know deep down I’m not done. I think it has to do with feeling that, as a single mom, I somehow am being cheated out of the “true” experience of being pregnant and a new mom wiht a loving husband by my side. I want to experience the anticipation of waiting for the BFP and the excitement of figuring out how to tell my DH.

    But then I have days where I look at LittleBoy and I think to myself, why would I want to change what we have? Why would I risk bringing a husband and change things up when he and I are just fine already.

    It all depends on the mood.

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