When I reread my last post, I realized it sounded very much like a business plan - all talk about numbers, timing, locations (and that's without getting started on the cost of it all). But that's not what building our family is about, even if this route makes it feel that way.
Until a few months ago, I was still breastfeeding Baby B, if only before bed, and having another baby was very far from my mind. A friend and I talked about it and I remember telling her that I couldn't imagine it - pregnancy and a newborn whilst running after an incredibly active toddler? Crazy!
Then I stopped breastfeeding.
Which I was happy to do after 15 months. And Baby B seemed fine with it too - no problems sleeping, no boob groping, no growth decline.
And then the pangs started.
The lingering looks at pregnant bellies. The mooning over ultrasound images & newborn pictures.
And the hoping... The irrational hopes when my period was a day late. The counting back to whether my Bloke & I had got it on around ovulation time. And that sin of sins for the hopelessly hopeful infertile - the Googling of 'implantation bleeding'.
*just a little side note to myself here - it's not implantation bleeding. It never has been, it never will be. It's your period.*
I guess those baby-making hormones are more powerful than I realized. I really never expected to feel this way again. I never expected the return of that longing. I never expected the return of that jealously as my Mum friends start planning & falling pregnant with #2, making it all sound so simple.
Don't get me wrong - this isn't the same as before. The desperation isn't there. The pain is dulled to the point of a mild ache, only making itself known in quiet, alone times - of which I have few these days & I am eternally thankful for that. But it's still there. That pain. That 'Why me? Why us?'
So, do I want another baby because it makes sense? Because we have frosties that need using up, like you'd grab a frozen lasagne that had been sitting in there a bit too long? No.
I want another baby because I can't imagine not being pregnant again. I can't imagine not holding our newborn child in my arms again. I can't imagine Baby B growing up without a sibling. And that's why we're doing it all over again.