To three or not to three?? That is the question.
I pretty much think about having a third child daily. Our youngest is two-and-a-half so it’s kind of the time we should consider it (well at least that’s what people tell me, except my husband is still in the never phase because our toddler is a psycho energiser bunny at the moment and our five-year-old thinks her shit doesn’t stink simply because she is in Prep).
I’m only 33 and he’s 35 so we aren’t in the red time zone yet but life is fabulous right now to be honest (besides the five-year-old’s attitude) and I can’t work out if I want to upend everything.
I’m not the most patient of people and I’m a worrier. I panic about negative things happening in the future before they even happen, and most of the time they don’t even happen at all. And I’m the sort of person who likes my sleep uninterrupted…
Do I want to go through the newborn phase again where I’m crouched in the corner of the room rocking back and fourth because my nipples are bleeding, my vagina is ripped from Frankston to Sorrento and I haven’t had more than two hours sleep in a row in weeks?
Besides, I’ve literally just, after two years, kind of begun to resemble my pre baby self (kind of if I wear a lose top, keep my lifeless hair died regularly and wear a necklace to draw people’s eyes to my negligee rather than my flat chest that has diminished after having the life sucked out of them).
But, I can’t help asking myself; is there someone missing in this family? The biggest problem I have is that there’s a nagging and somewhat clear vision I have of a little boy (or girl, lets not be gender picky because that’s a whole ‘nother blog) missing from the family portrait. I can feel him/or her there and I can picture a life with that third child blending in really well to the craziness.
Don’t get me wrong, I know I am so blessed to have the two that I have, to have even one is the greatest gift you can ever receive, but isn’t that the whole point?
I am so lucky to be able to have children, should I just be grateful for the two I have and be done with it because I am so fortunate that they are here and healthy… or should I use that gift of life again and create another amazingly unique individual (and pregnancy agrees with me, not a day of morning sickness – no stretch marks, yes I am that bitch)?
I look at all the boxes and boxes (and boxes and boxes) of baby clothes I have in storage plus the highchair, the baby carrier, the bumbo, the plush toys, the activity mat and the maternity clothes (yes I am a hoarder but I promise I have lent them out to many people who have had kids but they’ve all come back to me three fold) and I would love to get rid of it all now. I’d love that feeling of decluttering, moving on and getting on with life. But instead I feel like I am living in limbo.
I’ve asked a million people how many kids they have, do they regret not having more (or having ones they have had!) and I’m no closer to a decision than I was before. I guess I should probably include my husband in the decision making process too of course but he says it’s ultimately my decision and he will go with what I want (reluctantly perhaps but still he’s a good egg isn’t he) as he doesn’t want to be responsible for any regret I may feel in the future.
I do, however, want this to be a joint decision but he’s probably right about it being up to me now as I’m the full time carer of the little critters. I’m the one that needs to be able to juggle this. Surprisingly, hubby is more in favour of sticking with the two girls and not trying again. He’s happy with two daughters, his two little princesses. He said he feels fulfilled and he believes if another one is thrown into the mix the craziness will intensify and it will be utter chaos causing stress on our family.
He’s worried there won’t be as many OS holidays, trips to the zoo will be expensive, camping will be tough, crossing the road will be a challenge, bedtime will be world war three, babysitters won’t put their hands up anymore…ever, schooling costs with be out of control, we will have to renovate and build a new bedroom and basically, it boils down to him worrying he will have to work until he’s 93.
The truth is; I understand his fears because we love life just the way it is. We have one child each to snuggle with on the couch, tandem tantrums are manageable, gastro is dealt with ok, swimming lessons take up only two days in a week, babysitters are happy to take both at once (sometimes) and crossing the road is a breeze.
But should we make a decision based on the things that may only be difficult for the first five or so years? Will we regret not having another child, one that won’t be a child forever and will one day be an adult, a person that we made, we moulded, we created, we taught, we guided? A person who will one day be making their own way through life with the knowledge we instilled upon them? Will I always be wondering if we made the right choice to stop at two?
Will I always yearn for a third and wish I could turn back time and just do it? Who knows at this stage what we are going to decide, the decision is still being pondered (argued about sometimes but let’s not go there) so I guess it’s a road we will cross in due course…or not…