No, I'm not talking about cookies or pizza--although that is also a daily battle. I'm talking about the age old question of the Mormon mother: Is it time to have another baby?
Even as I type this question my 20 month-old is screaming to sit on my lap. And so it brings to mind even more (seemingly) important questions, such as, do I even have any more room on my lap? I have already become a human jungle gym--put to good use every day--hair, legs and arms are constantly being pulled at. And for that matter, do I have enough arms for three kids? I think not. As of my last count five seconds ago, I only have two of those, and so I don't see how that's going to work. Oh, and what if the final total after my next pregnancy isn't three? I just might be fertile enough to conceive triplets or beyond--seriously, I wouldn't be too shocked (just devastated). Okay, so a multiple birth has maybe a low probability, but there are so many other things to consider. Such as my mental/emotional health. It seems to be doing just fine at the moment, but tends to teeter during pregnancy and postpartum. Ugh.
You could always bring mathematics into the matter (not usually too good of an idea, I get confused easily when it comes to numbers). I have a 3 1/2 year-old, and a 20 month-old, so with their spacing it would seem that I am actually a little behind. Truth be told I did that deliberately--it's probably not necessary to have all your kids spaced the exact same amount of time. But I've been thinking lately that it might be best to just shoot them all out quickly--you know, within the next five years or so--and be done with the job. Then I can raise the (cute) little stinkers, and send them all on their merry way while I travel the world in my early 50's! That doesn't sound too calculated does it? But then I'm afraid I could totally mess up that plan by reaching my pre-determined "quota" of children at an early age, and then become alarmingly baby hungry once again. There would be nothing to stop me from making a rash decision (and trust me, I'm making those constantly), such as the excuse that I'm too old to continue birthing children. You can't say that when you're a chipper 32 years old. And so you see, I don't trust myself, and that puts me in a pickle.
I also get sick when I'm pregnant. Alarming sick. I don't want to dwell on it or I may not have any more babies at all.
But you know it just seems like its about that time. The time when your baby's not looking or acting so much like a baby anymore. And my initial repulsive thought of being up all night with a colicky infant is being replaced by visions of an adorable baby (my babies always are), cooing and laughing and cuddling. And the pure joy of bringing life into the world is so irreplaceable. I love being a mother more than anything else I could imagine. I love my children--with the kind of love you'd be willing to die for. So to create that kind of love once again could only be a beautiful, wonderful thing.
Hmm, I always joke that Jaction would make a wonderful surrogate. That would fix the whole sick thing along with all the mental/emotional problems. What are good friends for? (I probably just lost one of mine:P)
What do you think? Mothers and non-mothers alike, join together and give me your feedback. I need ideas, I need gumption, I need a firm mind.
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