Take moment to gather your thoughts. Maybe sit criss-cross-applesauce, loosen your neck a bit, roll your shoulders, close your eyes and imagine…having another baby. Some of you are laughing, some are crying and some are holding your recent bundles of joy. 2013/2014 was a prolific year for many of you as I look at all of the birth announcements on my bulletin board. (Or holiday cards. I love this new trend of the hybrid birth announcement and holiday card if the child was born within 6 months of December.)
No, I absolutely CANNOT imagine having another infant in this Casa di Loco…I truly am the poster child for the person who has all she can handle… but it doesn’t mean I can’t want to.
The other day, in the chaos that is my organizational system in this house, I stumbled upon a clothes bin full of boy baby clothes from our days in Tallahassee. I decided to pack them up to ship to South Florida to my friend Sparky who will soon have baby boy #2. At 6 and 8 years old, my boys are so far removed from the 12-18 month old pilly and tattered Gap Halloween jammies that I came across. A wave of nostalgia enveloped me as I remembered stuffing their chubby feet into the spider and jack-o-lantern footsies…I swear my ovaries started to swell. Hold up. I know. Why would I send Sparky the ragged Halloween jammies that were 8 years old???? I didn’t. I ended up hiding them in a box of mementos on the top shelf of my closet.
But here’s the deal – I would if I could. My very own mother suspects my dark secret of desiring another offspring. Sometimes, with no catalyst, she will look at me with narrowed eyes and accusingly whisper, “I know you’d have another baby if you could”, as if I was plotting to kill a puppy. There is only 1 person more happy about The Husband’s vasectomy than he is…said Mother.
When The Husband and I reminisce about years past, The Middle’s auburn ringlets that have long grown out, or hearing The Nosy Meap sing “Toooo Yittle Back Burds” just as The Eldest and her doppleganger did so many years ago, I find myself staring deep into his eyes and blurting out, “If we could, wouldn’t you want just one more baby? Just one more?”
His reply is standard, every time I ask, “You can have another baby, just not with me.” You see, he has unilaterally initiated a household policy that simply states: “heartbeats are on a ‘one in, one out’ policy – you wanna bring one in you gotta send one out”. In all fairness, he’s usually talking about pets – The Middle and I want a
snake bearded dragon gerbil big dog new animal, just depends on the day. Still, The Old Man just doesn’t get the joke about another baby.
Regardless, once in awhile I bump into someone with a newborn and I ache – for the idea more than the reality – to hold another baby. It makes zero sense, but since when does having a baby make sense? So maybe, just maybe……nah.