Brutally honest? I’ll give you brutally honest.
One of my girlfriends just had her third child, and my niece her first. My nephew’s wife is pregnant with their first, and a friend of ours just had his first. And I do NOT long so much to have another baby.
I wish I could do it all over again – pregnancy, birth, breastfeeding a newborn. Even two months of unrelenting nausea (OMG, that nausea!) and sleep-deprived nights up with a gassy baby. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
Wasn’t the video of the giggling, breastfeeding baby I posted yesterday the cutest? Seeing that baby nurse reminded me of those precious moments of breastfeeding L when he was that little.
But on the other hand, life with just Landon is perfect. He is perfect. He’s healthy and the most mellow, gentle, sweet little boy.
L gets a lot of mommy and daddy attention by being an only child, and he hasn’t ever mentioned that he’d like a brother or a sister.
But it makes me sad when I see L want to play with other kids so badly when he is around them. And he would be a wonderful, attentive, helpful big brother, but they would be six or seven years apart.
Now that L is in kindergarten, I have more time to do what I love so much besides being a mommy — making a living with blogging and social media consulting.
I’m so blessed — with this amazing little boy, a husband I love, and a career that I adore. And we are working on another big project that is a dream of mine that keeps me busy.
Why chance it and throw a baby into the mix? Things are easier now. Why risk that it would be too much — for us as a couple, for us as a family, for my body? What if the child wasn’t healthy because of my age?
I don’t ever want to hear, “YOU are the one who wanted a second one!” It would crush me.
Saying it would be a stretch financially would be an understatement. I wouldn’t be able, or willing, to work much at first, but we need a second income.
All around it wouldn’t be a smart or practical decision. And I’m usually very practical. I feel selfish to even think of having another child.
But sometimes I wish I was 10 years or even five years younger — I think then I would throw caution to the wind and have another baby.
And keep that highchair I just cleaned up for an hour so I can resell it.
Because being practical is overrated.