A funny thing happens when you take the plunge and start having kids: the unending comments begin. When you’re pregnant, comments like, “Are you sure you’re not having twins? Are you feeling ok?” and “You’re huge!” are merely a small blurb of the ridiculous things people will say to you until you deliver. Then it’s, “Is baby sleeping through the night? Are you breastfeeding? Why/why not?” and so and so on until the end of time.
Once you finally start to look somewhat rested and like you finally have some balance in your life again, the next round of questions come in like Miley Cyrus on a wrecking ball: “Are you going to have more? Baby needs a brother or sister! You should go for [insert opposite gender of your current kid(s) here].” This one used to bother me a lot.
Generally speaking, it’s no one’s business what your uterus is up to at the moment.
It’s also insensitive considering the plethora of issues, difficulties and complications many women experience when it comes to their reproductive health.
But if you must ask, and you happen to be asking me, I will tell you this: I will always want more babies.
Having babies is addictive, a bit like the rush of getting your first tattoo or body piercing. The desire to do it again comes back after your body heals and you’ve accepted your new life. I am privileged in that I had two fantastic pregnancies followed by two relatively easy labor and deliveries. I healed up well after each and once we got through the early bumps in breastfeeding, that went pretty much as expected.
Now, with my kids both on the cusp of turning two and five years old, the hubs and I find ourselves at that point when friends, family and even colleagues are asking once again if we will take the leap and go for a third baby or if we’re going to close up shop. No decisions have been made as of today, but I have always felt that if we had the means (i.e. we won the lottery), we’d have a few more. My son is growing out of his baby features. His fat feet and cheeks are are thinning out. I can’t hold him on my chest anymore and aside from our co-sleeping addiction, the things I love the most about holding and cuddling a baby are almost gone.
So naturally, I’ve arrived at the corner of “need one more round of kicks in-utero and newborn snuggles” and “sell off all the baby gear and move on to what’s next.” Both are extremely tempting, both have their pros and cons. But one thing I know that will never change about me is the fact that despite whatever might be happening with my reproductive parts, I will always want another baby. Even when I know I won’t be having any more, I will still always crave the sensations of a baby growing inside me or the quietly perfect moments of a newborn completely asleep in the crook of my neck because I am a proud member of the “you can’t have just one” squad.
I’m one of THOSE people and nothing will ever change that so if you have to ask if I want more, I will get all Professor Snape on you and reply with….
I am totally with you. I am done but I will always wonder about what “one more” would’ve been like and who it would’ve been. Loved this.
Love! Totally want another. Not sure if I can. Loved being pregnant. Loved giving birth. Loved having a baby. Loved everything that came with it. He’s 18 months now and so wished I had another!
We have 7, you should hear the crazy comments we get!!! I have been told by several people that we’ll know when we’re done, but I’m not convinced I’ll ever get to that point. So, for now, the response to whether we’ll have more is ” only time will tell”.