I would like one more child.
Call me crazy. But I do.
Even though we have one of each gender.
Even though our hearts are full.
Even though we will probably have to buy a minivan and are contemplating an addition and my husband is almost 40 and we’re far too busy already and we don’t really have a life outside our small house and I want to go back to school…
But I really need to have another baby.
“But why? Why would you throw yourselves into that chaos intentionally? Why would you want to be outnumbered? How will you go on vacations or ride roller coasters or eat at a four person dinner table?!?!” You may ask.
Now, I don’t know if you do too, but I believe that our life has a plan. I believe that we came in to this world already knowing what our life would look like. Sure, we have a choice in what we do each day and who we meet, but there’s something we can’t see that propels us. That something is within us, it’s who we are and what we are meant to do. We have life lessons to learn the hard way and people to connect with throughout our lives. Destiny. Fate. Whatever.
I’m also a fairly rational person. I can keep my cool and differentiate between my emotions and what the right thing to do is.
But sometimes, especially in this case, feeling trumps rationalisation.
There is something deep inside of me that longs for another being, that knows that there is someone missing in our family pictures. There is no other option to me.
I’m so scared that something may get in our way, that regardless of our two simple conceptions this one may prove to be difficult.
It scares the shit out of me because I know I won’t be able to be humble and accept our fate and enjoy our two adorable children. After all we are lucky! But I also kamagra pharmacy think I would always feel an emptiness that never could be filled without another child.
It would ruin me.
For the other moms out there going through the same thing, I promise you this: I will never tell you that you should be grateful for what you have. I know that no matter how many children you have, if you feel that one is missing it is absolutely heartbreaking. I won’t judge you, because I know that this feeling is out of your control. I am in your corner. I am rooting for you, empathizing.
My heart breaking.
There is no reasoning with fate.
So I will keep breathing. I will keep listening to my heart, in my small house with the noisy toys and clutter, with children that I love and who incessantly argue with each other.
I will keep trying to keep it together, to be less controlling and enjoy my children while they are young.
I’ll keep driving my car which probably won’t fit another car seat and is still full of the remnants of our last camping trip from over a month ago and half-eaten packages of Goldfish.
My body will moan again at the thought of becoming full, and I will become even more exhausted, though I wouldn’t have thought it was physically possible.
There will be no retiring early, and my dream of becoming a Nurse Practitioner will have to take the back seat for a little while. We’ll be late for everything as always. I will keep forgetting to bring my dish to the play date and I will never be a popular mom.
Just a busy mom.
Just a mom who loves her children, the way they were meant to be loved.
And I will embrace it with every fibre of my body.
This is my life.
This is what I am meant to do.
I hope that you are able to find your life’s meaning too.
Take your hard knocks.
Learn your life lessons.
Follow your heart.
Be you, mama.