Only Children Are Just Fine

We talked about a second baby and we went back and forth for a week or so. I know that’s not really a lot of time to make a decision and we may change our minds in the future. For now, we decided that a second child isn’t really a good idea for us. I know, in our hearts, like most women, we want to have more children. We want to nurture a new generation of children in our family, in our blood. To satisfy that urge to bond with a child of our own. It’s just too much right now for our heads to say yes to.

The positives are obvious; K could have a child of her own blood and carry a child. I could actually name the child! We could give Punky a sibling. We would be growing our family. We could maybe have a son.

The negatives are more complicated; the insurance issue, the mental illness, the genetics. We would have to likely get a bigger home. We would care for a toddler and a newborn. It’s just a lot of more heavy weighing things.

Right now.

I’m not going to say that we won’t revisit this situation at some point. However, the reason we were thinking about it, was because our donor is considering his own options as far as child-making abilities. In the next few years, he may not have the goods.

We are women, so who knows what tomorrow will bring, but right now, I think we are making the right decision for the two of us. We got it confirmed by K’s psychologist that it may not be the best idea, right now, for K to carry a child. She did say that it can be done if we want to do it, but at this point in time, it may not be the best option.

When we thought about having children and beginning a family, we always talked about having multiple children. But, when Punky was born, we have had talks about it before and really, it’s not really something we were concrete about. I think K and I both really thought our donor was over the whole conception thing and we really didn’t want to talk about asking him again. Until he brought it up, I feel like we were content with the lives we have and the one child we have.

So, we may revisit it. We may not. I never like to think I know how something will happen in the future. I don’t like to think in absolutes. I’m kind of funny that way.

It’s similar to my religious views. I don’t believe, now, that there is a God, persay. At least not the same God that people ‘worship’, because that God is just … eh … fickle. I don’t agree with the doctrine that is taught by the church. I also have to believe that I don’t know what’s actually true and what’s reality. Who knows, we may have been created by some all powerful being. We don’t really know. No one knows. Part of me wonders if I am just not a believer in the church.

Never think in absolutes. I never have. I just went off on a tangent. In the end, we have the child we both wanted. We love her more than anything and at the moment, she may be all we really have time or energy for. We could change our minds, but I really think this is the right decision for us, as hard as it is on my heart, my head knows we have made the right choice.

The Most Annoying Question …. Right Now

When we were first announcing we were pregnant, oh, almost 2 years ago. The question that irritated me the most was “How Did This Happen?”. Now, that question doesn’t really bother me. Ask me how we conceived our daughter and I have no problem telling you how it happened. And much more cordially than when I was first pregnant.

Now.

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I swear since Peyton turned one, people joke about having another baby. When are you having another one? Are you ready for another one? Don’t you think Peyton needs a sibling? Blah, Blah, Blah.

Would I love to love another child? Yes. I would – my life was never envisioned with just one child in our lives.

However, when I get asked that question, I have to through the awkward motions of reminding these people just hard difficult it was for us to get the first one. I don’t mind answering the question “How did this Happen?” I do mind reminding you because you didn’t get it the first time.

We had to find a donor. We had to find a donor who was willing and ready to give us a child and want nothing in return. We had to chart and take temps and go through the motions of figuring out the ovulation crap. We had to host said donor in our home for a week. I had to … well, you know … twice a day for a week. While my partner was in another room. Ouch. I know. Awkward? You don’t have to tell us!

That week was physically and emotionally draining. A normal relationship is not built to withstand that kind of trauma more than once. Hell, it shouldn’t have withstood it once. That experience did a lot of things for me, but it instilled the further truth that K and I are meant to be. If we can stand through that time, we can stand through anything.

I won’t complain about the beginnings of our conception, because once we went through the initial 5 months of planning and the one week of trying, we were pregnant. We were the lucky ones. I have no reason to complain.

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I did hate being pregnant. I had no reason to hate it. I just hated it. I felt claustrophobic and anxious the entire 10 months I was pregnant. I was constantly checking my toilet paper and  my pelvic bone shifted and made it difficult and painful to walk sometimes. Otherwise, I had no morning sickness, no real cravings and no absurd amounts of weight gain.

I like to think I still would do it again. If the road to a second child wasn’t filled with obstacles and hurdles. I’m not talking the baby gate hurdles, which I have gotten very good at, I am talking about finances. I am talking about emotions. I am talking about logistics. I am just not sure we could withstand another round.

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Also, I love our little girl to bits. To teeny tiny pieces and every single hair on her head. I love all her little pores and her sharp cannibal teeth. I love EVERY tiny little thing about her.

I like that I only have her. I like that I can spend as much undivided attention on her. I like that she can be my favorite and I don’t have to be afraid to admit it. I like that I can buy her a present and I don’t have to worry about getting one of equal size or caliber for someone else. I like that I can pick her up and swing her around and dance and sing her favorite songs with her. I can give her both my arms and wrap them around her little body and squeeze her tight.

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What if we had a second kid? Would she still be as special to me as she is right now? I’m sure she would be, but I wouldn’t have the time or energy to devote to her. I wouldn’t be able to call her my favorite. I wouldn’t be able to shower her with love and attention like I do right now. I wouldn’t be able to smother her with all my kisses, instead she would have to share them!

So, to answer that irritating question. Yes, I would love to have another child. Will we have another child? Who knows. But, I highly doubt it.

I just don’t know if I have room in my heart for another little one. Peyton is the miracle baby I have never believed could be real. She became real a year ago and I just can’t imagine feeling this way in equal measure for another child. The day she was born, at the very moment this picture was taken, she filled up my whole heart and soul with her tiny little face.

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Of course, we doubted we would have one child and I am still in awe we have her. So, who knows what the future holds for our family.

However, bringing up the fact that we ‘need’ or ‘should have’ a second child just grates on my nerves. It brings up thoughts and feelings I don’t want to explain and I don’t want to experience right now.