Monday, February 11, 2008

To conceive or not to conceive...that is the question.

Well, I've been thinking alot about the addition of number 4 to our already kinda crowded family. I go back and forth about the issue alot, and can't seem to reconcile my own feelings toward any one decision. On one hand, our family seems great right now, and I don't want to "rock the boat" so to speak. I have three, beautiful, healthy children, and maybe I should quit while everyone is happy, everyones needs are being semi-met, and I have enough bedrooms for everyone.
But then I think of getting rid of all my baby stuff, and my heart starts to ache. All those tiny little clothes, and sweet baby shoes. The swings, the bassinet, the bouncy seat, the exersaucer, the baby tub, the high chair- all things baby that I have had in constant use in my house for the last 3.5 years. I know many people can't wait to rid themselves of all that baby clutter, and there's a small part of me that looks forward to having all that space back. But the bigger part of me wants to see another baby make use of all that "stuff." A few months ago when we packed Sam's crib into the attic, I felt so sad that we didn't have two cribs in use at the same time anymore. Only ONE crib? That seems so lonely.

Then I think of having my body back. Maybe I would actually invest in some decent clothes again once I know I'm not going to have any more pregnancies. Maybe I would wear regular bras and not nursing bras. Maybe I would wear heels again every now and then. Maybe I would even start getting things like regular haircuts and highlights, facials, and manicures. Maybe I would be me again.

People keep telling me that you KNOW when you're done having kids, so why am I in such turmoil over the whole thing? I don't KNOW that I'm done, but I also don't KNOW that I'm not. I see pregnant women and I long to feel those tiny kicks from within, letting me know that there's a little person, part me and part Ryan, growing inside me, filling not only my uterus, but my heart as well. I watch "Baby Story" on TLC, and think that I'm not ready for my last birth experience to be over. I love finding out the sex of the baby, the ultrasounds and hearing that tiny heartbeat, and the excitement of impending labor. I would love to meet another child and have my entire life changed...all over again.

But FOUR kids seems like so many. My husband and I both come from families with four children, so shouldn't it seem normal to us to have four of our own? But dinners out for four kids- Yikes! And trips to Disney for four kids- extra YIKES! And COLLEGE for FOUR KIDS AT THE SAME TIME- YOWZA!
Maybe one morning (hopefully soon!) I'll wake up with a feeling and KNOW what I want and what is the right thing for my family. But until then...hmmmmm.

2 comments:

Jen said...

No one ever regrets (at least not for more than a minute here or there!) having another baby.

You should do it! Or at least keep all your baby stuff until the decision is made for you.

Jodie Allen said...

hi, i found your link on fern's blog and totally understand your feelings. my husband was done done done after our second baby was born and our first was only 15 months old. and although i didn't feel ready i knew financially and emotionally he was right. but THEN birth control failed to work and whoops! number three is on the way (three under three!). even in the midst of two toddlers, no extra money, no sleep and pregnant I didn't feel done. UNTIL. Until the ultrasound tech told me we were having a boy (after two girls). I didn't even want a boy but the second she said that I knew God had completed our family. I burst into tears b/c the feeling of pure completeness came over me. i think i will still miss being pregnant at times, especially b/c i love all the things you love about expecting a baby, but i also know that this is what God wanted for our lives and I'm happy about that. Content. If you are struggling I would wait and see... you just never know when a random case of the "flu" results in #4! :)

jodie
www.jodified.typepad.com