So here I am trying to plan out our vacations for the year (and next year) and it’s bringing up a lot of feelings. Way more feelings than planning a vacation should ever elicit. Most people are thinking about a few simple questions, when, where, how much will it cost?
Me, on the other hand, vacation planning has devolved into an internal struggle about whether or not we should try to have another baby. My thoughts on this are so jumbled, it will be hard to lay this out in such a way that it comes through as even semi-coherent, but I’ll give it a shot.
So.
First thing, we are trying to plan a trip to Legoland. T is four and a half now and he does love to play with us but I just know that everyone will have a better time if he has a playmate his own age to enjoy the park with, and it will be easier for us as parents with creaky knees and limited energy. Cue guilt for not having a sibling for him like two years ago, when my body was all fucked up and in no position to carry a baby but when it would have given him a sibling in a window of time where they would be able to play with each other on trips like this. Stupid fucking body, seriously fuck you.
Then I start thinking, okay if we start trying now, and the truth is we have been “trying” for a few months now, except not really trying, just not not trying? Anyway, nothing has happened so far and since we only had fun-time once at the veeeeeery beginning of my fertile window this past month, I’m not expecting anything interesting is happening in my uterus at the moment either (except that it’s about to shed it’s lining whee!). But it’s like, dude, T is four and a half. Even if I get pregnant next month our kids will be 5+yrs apart, and does that even help us at all with the playmate issue? Because truthfully at this point, that’s kind of my main reason for wanting to have another baby.
It’s just not the same as when we were trying for T. Before T every fiber of my being was determined that I would have a baby, I physically needed a baby. I felt like my world and life would not be complete without one, I felt that from the depths of my heart.
And now? I feel pretty content most of the time. T is my miracle. I feel beyond blessed that he is here, he is healthy, I made it through the pregnancy only slightly more damaged than I was before, and my life is pretty manageable. We have a decent number of friends with kids his age and classmates who’s parents we enjoy spending time with so it’s not like a problem day to day. The problem only comes up when I’m vacation planning. Because then it’s just the three of us. And I think he feels it too because he’s started to ask, “Mommy, when will you make me a brother or sister?” He prefers a sister for the record (I think I would prefer another boy, so we’re not exactly on the same page with that – not that it’s in our control!). Then I feel guilty. I love my sister, I loved growing up with her and I love having her in my life now and I hate to think I could be depriving T of that kind of bond. And I do think he would make an excellent big brother, so there’s that.
Anyway, I’ve been looking for Legoland buddies and trying to shove all that shit out of my head for the time being since Paul and I decided we will continue on half-assedly trying for the time being. We are both just so ambivalent. I’m sure if we had another baby, we would love the heck out of the baby, but the thought of that first year of newborn/babyhood is daunting and terrifying. Paying for two private school tuitions is probably not do-able. Paying for a nanny is probably not exactly doable either but I don’t know.
Okay, so that’s the Legoland existential crisis #1. The bigger one is the trip we’re planning for next February to Hawaii. We’re hoping to do five days of Maui & five days of Aulani. So again, this would be easy if all we had to worry about were normal vacation logistics but here again, we’re attempting to coordinate the Aulani portion of the trip with a friend with a daughter so that T will have a buddy. Fine, okay, not too bad there.
BUT then it occurs to me, holy shit, what if this “not trying trying” leads to an actual pregnancy. And then I have to start thinking about the actual real consequences of being pregnant and how it affects the ability to travel. I know there’s a strong possibility that even if everything goes as well as it can, the end of any pregnancy will be…hairy…to say the least. I won’t feel comfortable flying anywhere after 24w, esp since Maui has a super shitty hospital and Aulani is at least an hour out from the nearest hospital with a high level NICU. Plus by 28 weeks I’ll be into the bi-weekly monitoring phase of the pregnancy and given how quickly T went from fine to not fine I’m not willing to skip 10 days of monitoring even if it is for Hawaii.
So I guess I’ll just have to book everything, buy trip insurance and pray a lot. But then this all brings me back to the original question that I’ve been trying to avoid.
DO I EVEN WANT ANOTHER BABY? I kind of feel like no I don’t. And I feel horribly guilty for saying that because we’re still sort of trying and could get pregnant and then will the baby feel like I didn’t want it? Because if it does come to exist I will obviously love it with every part of me right? Literally Paul and I talk about this and neither of us really wants to close the door on it but neither of us are like YES WE TOTALLY WANT ANOTHER BABY! But then I bring up chucking out the crib and all the baby shit we’ve been saving that’s taking up space in our cramped condo and we. Just. Can’t. A part of us just doesn’t want to let go I guess?
Anyway, if you’ve made it this far, thank you for listening to all the whine. You deserve a medal.