When you’re done having babies?
I was so very certain when I was pregnant with Eve and afterwards adamant that I was done, done, done with that part of my life.
But as we hurtle to her first birthday and past her brothers’ thirteenth there’s that familiar ache. It starts out as a soft tugging at my heart, a tiny little whisper that has grown with each milestone passed. Steadily it’s increased through a pattering of the heart to a louder steady march, momentarily squashed on screamy sleepless nights, but not silenced for long.
I turn potential names over in my mind, names for a little person I was never going to consider.
Is it just hormones, premature nostalgia, extreme sleep deprivation? Or is there a little one waiting wherever it is that we wait?
Do we keep Eve an almost only child with such a leap between her and her older siblings? Is that good, bad or indifferent to her quality of life?
Then there’s the ease of organising one little one rather than two, two free hands to take care of their needs and no one competing for your attention.
If it were just up to me I think my heart would rule and the decision would be made, but it’s never that simple.
Tell me your tales of having siblings, or not having siblings, your opinions on how it impacts on your life and who you are. Tell me how or if you know when it’s time to stop?