I should be sleeping. Or cleaning. But I’m wide awake. I have some annoying life insurance physical exam at 10:30 this morning, and I have very little interest in it. But I’ll do it and get it over with.
Otherwise, I’m taking a short pause from the A to Z Challenge. Just a post about babies. Which I could have done two days ago, under the letter B, but I didn’t really think of these things until yesterday.
I have a son. He’s almost 10 months old. And he is the best thing ever. And Hubs and I tried for nearly two years to conceive before the Boy blessed us. And now I’m wondering if we should be doing it again.
A friend of mine back home, who was pregnant the same time I was, just announced that they are expecting baby #2. I couldn’t be happier for them. I wish them all the best. But it got me thinking about whether I want to do it again. I guess deep down, I would love to have another child. And if God wants to bless us with another child, so be it. I won’t be upset. But the question is: are we supposed to have another child? Maybe not now, but someday? I don’t want to put any silly limits on myself with age or time between kids and whatnot. And if it happens, that’s the way it was supposed to be. But is it supposed to be? I know we won’t know until we know. And we haven’t been trying. And we’ve talked about waiting a little bit for the Boy to get a little older.
But the thing is, I hate the questions. I hated the questions when I was single about when I was getting married. And the ones when I was married about when we’re having kids. And now that we have a kid, the questions that ask if we’re having more. I think it’s a terribly personal question, but people love to ask anyway. And I don’t really have a polite, classy, diplomatic response. I usually answer, “we don’t know yet,” or something of the like.
I guess what I’m saying is that I would love to have another baby, but if it’s not meant to be I won’t be upset because that is the way it is supposed to be. But if we end up being blessed again, I know I’ll be over the moon.
I just don’t like the questions that put you on the spot.
Also, I think I’m feeling a little pressure because both my parents mentioned it the other day. In a very direct, very obvious way. I told my mother that I didn’t want any more, and that one was enough, and she was sad. But my default mode when dealing with my mother is to not give her any hope, because she WILL take it too far. And then it’s sad if I have to let her down.
I don’t know. Just a few things I’m thinking about.