thank god it was just the meatballs

August 29, 2008

before i became a mother i always thought that i’d have two, maybe three kids.  since my baby’s birth i’ve changed my tune and now i think this is enough.  one child is enough for me.  of course i am speaking as someone who battled through the trenches of colic and still bears the mental and emotional scars of general newborn suckitude.  having a newborn is hard, hard, hard, and anyone who tells you otherwise is delusional or high.  everyone said, “wait until she’s one.  you’ll want another.  the baby fever kicks in big-time.”  guess what.  she’s one now, and the the anti baby-fever has developed into a full on plague.  i say this cautiously because i know many women who have struggled with infertility and who would give anything for a baby.  (side note of awesome: two of my dear “formal infertile” friends are now expecting babies of their own!  i am SO excited for them.)  i also say it carefully because two of my other dear friends who have children just months older than my little monkey have recently announced that they are expecting their number-twos.  i am thrilled for them, but with each announcement i think, “good for them.  so glad it’s not me.” i’m just not ready.  i’m not sure i will ever be ready.  i love my baby.  i love our family of three.  i love being a mom to my little bug, but i don’t know if i’m cut out to be a mom of two (or, god help me) more than two kids.  being a mom is exhausting.  i’m sure it gets easier as they grow and become more independent, but right now the thought of something as trivial as getting two kids in and out of their carseats successfully, without a giant YOU FAIL bubble popping up over my head, sounds like an insurmountable yet unavoidable task in the world of more-than-one-spawn. 

i ate some leftover spaghetti and meatballs for lunch yesterday and felt all bloated and nauseated after my meal…it felt a lot like the early stages of pregnancy.  i had a momentary “ohmygodwhatif?” freak out that these symptoms meant that i was going to become a mom to two under two.  i began running through my mental calendar….when was my last period, when did we have “relations”, did i take all my pills, oh no this can’t be happening.  i added up all the factors and discovered, to my delight, that the chance of me being pregnant is remarkably slim.  huge sigh of relief.  remind me to never eat leftover meatballs again, mmmkay?

i’m sure if you give me more time i may change my mind again.  i do want my baby to have a sibling (even though i don’t have the greatest relationships with my siblings, but that’s a story for another day). i do want my husband to have the opportunity to be a daddy again.  it’s just been so much harder than i thought it would be, and the idea of starting all over again makes me more nauseous than those meatballs ever could.

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3 Responses to “thank god it was just the meatballs”

  1. Angelika Says:

    Sister friend – I am right there with you. This past week with Nolan on vaycay has been fun, but absolutely completely totally and without a doubt EXHAUSTING. I have no idea how people manage more than one. And I know you just “figure it out” supposedly, but I would rather not.

  2. kristen Says:

    ok, here’s the thing. i LOVE newborns. the first year is my favorite (so far. 🙂

    i have been told i am weird by many… you’re not the first.

    however… it still took me 3 years to even want to think about a second baby. and within minutes of that second baby’s debut, i got my tubes tied.

    i love both of my children so much. and i will say that having 2 is both doubly rewarding and exponentially harder than having 1. you are a “no regrets” kind of girl. whatever is right for you and isaac and avery, you’ll find it.

  3. jkmastera Says:

    We may only have one child (not by choice, but whatever – and thanks for the shout out), and I don’t think there is anything wrong with that. Of course, we would LOVE to have more than one, but honestly, I don’t know if we could handle it either. There is totally nothing wrong with not being ready (or ever feeling like you will be ready) for kiddo numero dos.


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