The past month or so have been full of reflection for me,
reflections on my family
and on where we have been and where we are going.
These thoughts have floated around in my brain for nearly a year now
and the thoughts change almost daily.
So I think, I wonder, I reflect.
My husband and I talk,
we go around in circles and we get nowhere.
I think reflections are pretty natural when you approach big milestones,
you think about what you were doing and how you were feeling
when you went through certain emotions before.
And with the beautiful girl's birthday coming
I've been doing a lot of thinking back to when I was pregnant with her
and back to when my beautiful boy had his own first birthday.
When my little man turned one back in February 2012,
we were keeping a little secret,
or rather, I was carrying a little secret.
A secret that would become our beautiful girl seven months later.
Many people I'm sure, thought we were crazy to be pregnant so soon,
some people even said as much out loud to us.
But it was absolutely the right choice for us.
I absolutely adore the age gap between my babies.
I don't think there is such a thing as a perfect age gap,
but 19 months is perfect for us,
and for these two beautiful kiddos.
But as my beautiful girl turned ten months
and I thought to myself;
"When her brother was this age we were trying to get pregnant again"
the idea seemed crazy.
My little man seemed so big and growing up fast at ten months,
but she still seemed like such a baby.
He had seemed like he would be ready for a baby brother or sister,
while she was still firmly in that baby stage herself.
Maybe it's a second child thing,
or her personality,
or just our attitude to her;
but one fact remained,
that the idea of getting pregnant with a third baby when she was that age,
seemed like the most ridiculous thing ever.
I have always said I wanted three babies
(actually I always used to say four,
but the hubby only wants two,
so three became the happy compromise.)
And when people would tell me wouldn't it be nice if Splodge turned out to be a girl
so we would have one of each,
I would always say it didn't really matter because I wanted a third regardless.
I was adamant on that fact.
Three was the magic number for us.
Then the beautiful girl came along.
And as I laboured with her in hospital
I remember it going through my head that I was categorically never doing this again.
The pain scared and overwhelmed me
and I just didn't want to put myself through it again.
Then she was born,
and the pain gets forgotten
and fades away to a distant memory.
In that first moment when I held my newborn son
some of the first words out of my mouth were;
"Oh my goodness, I could do this a hundred times."
I actually said that to my husband.
The euphoric feeling of holding my wriggly newborn and staring into his eyes
had me well and truly hooked.
But I didn't get that same feeling when I had the little lady,
I held her and I loved her
and something far less dramatic came over me;
a contented feeling.
It wasn't the same emotional high where I felt like a superwoman who wanted a hundred babies,
but more of a settled feeling,
like everything just felt 'right'.
In the weeks that followed her birth
when life with a newborn is exhausting at times,
and life with a newborn and young toddler even more so,
I thought again and again about whether we were done at two.
Could I do all this again?
Did I want to?
With one of each
we now have what many perceive to be the perfect family set up.
A little boy and a little girl,
the best of both worlds.
From almost straight after she was born
my husband felt pretty strongly that we were done
and I wondered if we might be...
we just felt... feel amazingly complete.
Our family is so balanced.
Two boys and two girls,
two parents and two children,
I have two hands to hold them both,
two arms to hug them both.
When times are tricky
my husband and I can divide and conquer,
and no one ever gets left out,
because there is always someone to talk to.
I have my best boy
and my best girl,
both so wonderfully unique and perfect.
But at the same time I'm not sure that we are done at two,
as the months have passed
and we've settled into life as a four,
I still wonder whether I want that third baby.
And a big part of me thinks that I still do.
A baby for no other reason than because we simply want it.
Not because we want a boy, or we want a girl,
but just because we want a baby.
Because we want another person in our gang.
A chance to see my beautiful girl play the mother hen to a baby.
A chance to watch my beautiful boy teach his sister how to be an older sibling.
As much as a big part of me isn't sure that two is it for us,
I also worry a lot about pushing our luck.
I worry about the two easy conceptions, pregnancies, births and babies that we've had,
and whether I am prepared for the possibility that number three may not be so easy,
if it were even to come at all.
I'm so grateful for the lucky hand we've been dealt with our beautiful family
and rocking the boat
or even tempting fate
just seems like a bigger risk to take when things feel so perfect.
Can you see why these ideas have buzzed around for more than year?
And why we're still no closer to knowing whether we'll have more children?
For every reason to, we find a reason not to.
Every argument in one direction seems to have a counter argument.
So we find ourselves in a space, in limbo,
and in a very unlike me fashion,
we're are just waiting and seeing.
When people ask us if we'll have any more babies
and we say we don't know,
it's because we honestly don't know.
We don't need anyone else to make our family feel complete,
it all feels like a pretty perfect fit.
But if we did hear the pitter patter of tiny feet again
then we know without question
that that third little person would fill a gap we didn't know we had,
and that we would be thrilled.
...How's that for a big open ending?
One thing is for sure;
if we are finished with our family right here and now
then I wouldn't mind one bit.
All photos courtesy of Erin May Photography.
All photos courtesy of Erin May Photography.