Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Baby Crazy

So I have two kids. Two boys. When B and I first got married we wanted to have four kids. This fluctuated up and down occasionally, but always by an even number. I come from a family of five children and am a strong believer that you should have an even number of children so no one gets left out. I know this makes absolutely no sense, and I'm sure other parents of an even number of children will back me up when I say that I'm pretty sure someone always gets left out whether there are three or four or six or seven, doesn't change my opinion. Right now, anyway.

After Mr. Man was born we decided that that was enough, despite the fact that we (well, I) really wanted a girl. Because—horrors!—what if we had another one and it, too, was a boy?

But sometimes (usually when I'm watching Jon and Kate Plus Eight or Seventeen Kids and Counting—or is it Eighteen Kids and Counting now?) I feel like I really want more kids. It doesn't help that my sister and my best friend both just had babies. It's funny—when they were both still pregnant but getting down to the wire, B and I had a pregnancy scare. I completely missed my period one month and then it was back next month like clockwork. I was sure I was pregnant, despite five pregnancy tests begging to differ. I told my friend L that it was her and my sister's faults for being pregnant. This statement only makes sense if you know the backstory—L's middle son is one month older than YaYa. My sister's oldest daughter is one month younger than YaYa. We were all pregnant at the same time. I told L that both of them being pregnant at the same time again was like the perfect storm for me getting pregnant again.

Anyway—what was my point again? Oh yeah. Sometimes when I'm watching those shows I feel like I should have more kids. I have never been baby crazy. At all. If anything, having kids has made me less likely to want more kids because now I know that there is no sleep again, ever, no privacy, no money, and I already have a giant belly and droopy boobs from the first two, so Lord knows what I'd look like after a third. (Looking at it from a different angle—could it get any worse? Probably not much.) But I watch these shows and I want more kids. I think, those people have eighteen children. Odds are they will have more. Imagine if they had stopped at two—those are sixteen human beings that would not exist right now. How could you say that those sixteen people should not exist? How can I say that any future children I could give birth to should not exist? Which is totally a stupid way to look at things (especially from a financial standpoint), but still. These are my thoughts and I can't help it.

Don't get me wrong—I'm not saying I want to have sixteen more children. But...I will admit that I get a little sad every month when I get my period, even thought I know it's coming and I'd freak out if I didn't get it. (I have always kind of been like this. I can remember being seventeen and getting my period and feeling sad because it was an unborn child, or at least a chance at a child. It's not, not even a little, but I was a weird teenager. It's probably fair to say that I'm a weird adult.)

I'm going to have to rewrite this entry five or six times. I feel like I've made a total hash of it. Forgive me if I sound like an idiot or offensive or something. I don't mean to. And now I'm going to publish it. Against my better judgment. Because what are blogs for if they're not for oversharing?

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