It’s crazy how life works. If you’ve been here a while you will likely have read how I always wanted 4 children. And you may have read that I have my 4 children now. Although one of them I will never hold in my arms, I do consider I have (in a strange way) four babies.
When I was pregnant with number 4 (Beau), I had a really tough time physically and because of the discomfort I experienced both during the morning sickness phase (till 19 weeks) and the last trimester with pelvic pain and a great deal of general feeling like crap, I made everyone who is near and dear to me promise that should I ever suggest I’d like another baby, to please remind me of how horrible the pregnancy was and to not let me ever consider going through it again.
In the almost two years since that time, I have on several occasions flirted with the idea of having another child. I have fantasised about how it would be to have my four babes running around driving me crazy, how those four babes would grow into independent, fun-loving, mama-loving, awesome individuals, how we would laugh around the dinner table for years to come about everything and nothing, how they would marry amazing spouses and bring me beautiful grandchildren and share fun family holidays together. You can see, I’m a dreamer. I’m a romantic and I’m slightly crazy. haha.
But I know we’re done. And now I know that God has a great sense of humour. My baby boy (fast approaching two) is craaaaaaazy. He’s wild. He is hilarious. He scares the shit out of me at times with his antics. He makes me laugh probably hourly. He also makes me scream two-hourly. He is the remedy and the only cure I need to rid me of my cluckiness for another child. I know I have trouble at times handling him and there is no way I could handle another one of him. And maybe the next wouldn’t be like him – but what if they were!? I used to say I could never have another baby because he was the most perfect, easy, slotted-right-in baby ever! I used to say I could never have another one after him because they would never be so easy. And then something happened and he became wild and now I know I could never have another because he’s too hard. See how that flipped on me!? That’ll show me. I know I have more love to give to another baby/toddler/child/human… but more patience, I’m all outta that!
I love though that it’s worked out this way. I love that we get what we can handle and even when we think we know best, or have it figured out, we don’t, and we don’t. I love how that keeps me humble and keeps me knowing that it’ll all be OK. I got this!
My baby boy, my Beau Beau, my Little Bowie, my Pork Bun, my Sausage Face, my Captain Delicious, my little friend keeps me on my toes and I love it – mostly, I really truly do. Except when I have to try to stop laughing at something ridiculous he’s doing when I should be disciplining him. His nerve is just unreal. His determination is insane. His crazy is contagious.
I’m done. This Mama is done. How did you know when/if you were done?