It may be the worst kept secret around, but I am going crazy with keeping it. For more than a year, I have been distracted while I think about it. It sneaks into nearly all my thoughts and interferes with many of my dreams.
I am outright, full-blown baby hungry.
Monkey is now 4. Bug is now 8. And I'm ready for another one.
Oh, that it would be that easy.
It's times like this that make it easy to fall into my little pity parties about how difficult my life feels. But since I've made ever single informed decision along the way, I can't dwell on that. After all, we made the decision to go into medicine, where I'll be working 12-14 hour days for at least the next 2 1/2 years. We made the decision to move to Iowa, 1200 miles away from any family that could theoretically help take care of a new baby. We made the decision about dental school, which means Hubster starting his own strenuous academic career. We are a single income family and with loans harder and harder to come by, daycare may not be as feasible as it once was.
We're at a point in our lives where things are actually getting easier. Monkey starts kindergarten next year. Which means that both boys would be in school during the day and there wouldn't be any extra childcare costs. There are no more diapers, high chairs, cribs, late night feedings, sleep training, or temper tantrums.
And it just breaks my heart.
Sometimes I feel like I'm determined to make my life difficult. Why can't I just be content with what I have? Two healthy boys, the thought of them both being in school, the rhythm that we've fallen into over the last year.
After all, I hate being pregnant. I get very sick, I get fat, I never regain my pre-pregnancy body. I'm tired enough as it is. I'm never home as it is. I'm stressed enough as it is. Why would I do this to myself?
And then I realize that I don't really care. I know that we're meant to have a third child.
That, and there are babies everywhere. My sister, my cousin, and a good friend just had babies. Friends of mine are pregnant right and left. And the blogosphere is just full of babies. Babies, babies, babies, and babies!
Nearly every time I sit in our office, I think about how cute it would be as a nursery. I find myself thinking of names.
The boys overheard Hubster and I talking about this topic and became so excited. "Are we having a baby?!" they squealed. No, they were told, we're talking about the possibility of a baby. They were crestfallen, but it's good to know they're onboard with the idea. In fact, we all are.
Where we go from here, I'm not exactly sure. Do we take the plunge and hope the schedules and child care work themselves out? Do we postpone until our schedules and income are more condusive for another baby?
In the meantime, I'm storing away nursery color schemes and coveting every newborn I see.