So I’ve basically gotten rid of everything that has to do with baby, including feeling insane 24/7, peeing with my underpants still on from lack of sleep and losing all sense of decision making abilities do to the outcome always being the opposite of what I anticipated because a baby just threw up on me and now I can’t do anything. So with that being said, I want another one…badly. What the hell is a matter with us parents? We go through hell, let’s face it, hell and back to successfully nurture, rear and produce (hopefully) decent citizens that at least will work somewhere…anywhere, as long as they have a job. Although we all hope it won’t be at a strip club of course. But we LOVE IT. I’m not saying just a little love it…we live, breathe, obsess about our children, even if we didn’t’ want them. Even if we didn’t expect it to happen, want it to happen or “not in hell” gonna happen…we LOVE IT! We are a bunch of crackheads feening for fetuses. Seriously. I’m not joking.
So here I am, almost 35 and want a fourth child, (but not more than a box of Famous Amos cookies right now…just saying). All of the crazy times, have completely been erased and every baby I look at, I yearn for it. Why? I have no clue. Zero. Did an alien take over my body? I do not have time for a new baby. I run like a maniac seven days a week, my husband travels for work, and the best thing I can do is decide it’s time for another baby. Check my pulse please.
I don’t mind the throw up, feedings, naps that prevent you from doing anything ever because you spend the entire time trying to nap also simultaneously thinking that you should be doing work around the house that has plastic nipples everywhere; nor poopy diapers. (However, I have learned recently that if it is my own poop, I’m dry heaving and comatose on the floor). Anyway, got off topic. I do that from time to time. What I am saying is that after five years of no baby, it’s like I am an alcoholic staring at a wine bottle day in and day out. Torturous.
But let’s not get it twisted. I DID spend the entire past 10 years wanting exactly the opposite. I wished they were bigger. I wished they could do things for themselves. I wanted to sleep in, but couldn’t. I wanted to have them all in school so I could get my career back…and now I am staring out the window with no one climbing on me like my arms are tree branches and getting my stools checked at the doctor. Sad. We wish our lives away, we wish our children’s lives away. We want to pee by ourselves. We want to look our butts in the mirror without anyone catching us. But, why can’t we live in the moment? I try, I have been more successful as I have gotten older. Bedtime stories are enjoyable and not painful (unless I have had a day when my 9-year-old co-parent has drove me to drink). I am more patient to their requests because I am not as tired as when they were sucking on my lilipads like the local dairy farm.
So I question what it is that has provoked such thinking. I love being a mom. I know this to be true. It is the most rewarding job I have ever had. and it has become at least ¾ of my identity. But, am I scared to take on the next venture in my life? I went from being a child dependent to my parent, to becoming a parent with a child dependent on me. I am not sure what being dependent on myself means. It’s an odd feeling. It’s like someone rings your doorbell with a bouquet of flowers and says, “Oh, sorry, wrong address.” You suddenly feel a hole in the pit of your stomach.
So will it happen? Your guess is as good as mine. I know my husband would be supportive either way because that is how he is. Amazing. And really it is our decision, not mine….and I probably want it more than he. But I do know that whatever happens, will happen as it was meant to be…and I will continue to try practicing living in the moment, because even though I want another baby, I am still a mom to three others…and obsessing about something that isn’t my realty, would be taking from them, and myself, and that is no way to live either…(nor is doing the pencil test on lonely nights when your husband is out of town…seems a little, you know…desperate 🙂 )