I have two wonderful sons. Beautiful sons. They make me laugh and at least one of them will make me head to the spot on the wall where I bang my head every day. I love the hugs, and playing UNO with them (and all the "sportsmanship" that comes with the game in this house), but I love babies.
When I was pregnant with Skywalker it was the worse experience ever. I had read the What to expect when you're expecting book, but too me, being pregnant at that time was one hurdle over another. Morning sickness subsided to be replaced by swollen legs, which was replaced by body aches... I hated being pregnant. Then to top it off, I ended up with toxemia and spent 2 weeks in the hospital, on magnesium sulfate (NASTY little bag of drugs) just to give birth prematurely and go through a new set of mind-boggling craziness and emotional rollercoasters.
A couple of years later I was told I couldn't have any more kids. Something about secondary infertility. The news were given to my by my fertility doctor after 3 tries of artificial insemination. We went to talk to a lawyer about the possibility of adopting. It was hard. I packed up all my baby things, you know, the ones that I had been saving for 4 years and took them to Goodwill. After I unloaded the car, I sat in the parking lot crying for about 20 minutes. I let go.
Two weeks later, I was pregnant with Mini-me. I swore right there and there that no matter what, I would ENJOY this pregnancy, because I knew that it would be my last. It was great. I was very high risk and even early in the process I told my OB that if something should happen, to make sure to to a tubal ligation. My body just could not handle another baby. He agreed. He admitted to not knowing how to talk to me about the need for such measures. Another baby would kill me. Mini-me was born full term and beautiful. I think that he is so much like me because he spent the entire time in there, with me being so positive about his development. He certainly took a better part of me with him.
But, there is the other part. Sunshine and I still feel that we are missing something in our family. The thought of a girl still becomes convesations amongst us. We know that we are now just trying to get over the huge unemployment, change of location, change of job, getting out of debt again, selling the house adventure, but we had set the goal of considering adoption once Mini-me became five. That milestone is this October.
Sunshine and I are believers that God will send blessings our way when we are ready for them. Mini-me was definitely the proof of that. Prior to the perfect timing of his coming, I wonder if our marriage would've survived him or if I would've appreciated him as much as I did.
Then, I also think about how we are past the baby stage. Our boys are potty trained. They sleep the entire night. They can walk. They can eat by themselves. They can entertain themselves. The challenges are different.
I sometimes babysit my 8 month old nephew and I am surprised about how hard it is. I believe that's how we continue as a species. Mothers forget how hard it is to take care of babies. We just see the cuteness and then, WHAM! you're hooked. I am glad that after a couple of hours, I can return my nephew to my brother.