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I love my three kiddos more than life itself, and could not possibly imagine my life without them. With that being said, before having Zach I was on the fence of if I wanted no kids, or just one kid. 75% of the time I was leaning more towards no kids. Then after Zach I was convinced I didn’t want anymore kids, ever. After I had Ryan I was convinced two boys would be good, it’d give them each someone to play with, but I absolutely did NOT want anymore kids. Then I got pregnant again and had a miscarriage. After that I thought maybe in about 5 years I could have one more, John thought this was a good idea too. He said we could try every few years until we had a girl. I said we could try one more time, and he better hope his sperm cooperates and gives him the girl he wants then. By the time we came to this decision it was like May or June and we were in the final stages of buying a house. By August I was freaking out in our new bathroom staring at the test that said “pregnant.”
If you know anything about my pregnancy with Belly then you probably know that it wasn’t exactly pleasant. Of my three pregnancies I carried to term, hers was by far the worst. And yes, that is a pretty big part of why I say I don’t want anymore kids. But really, growing up, as a child who was 6 years older than her next sibling I had to help a lot with taking care of my two younger siblings, plus help with both sets of younger step-siblings my dad went through, and help with all the babies and kids my mom watched. I knew being a mommy wouldn’t be all fun and sweetness, so I never dreamed of one day being a mommy. I dreamed of getting out in the world and getting away from the responsibilities and hassles of children.
Now, I’m 24 and the mom of three kids. My baby is 2 and we’re working on potty training. Yeah, she’s a fussy, bratty two year old, but she communicates semi-understandably, and is fun. (Be honest, infants are sweet and cuddly but not so much fun) Both of my boys are mostly house broken and both in school. At this stage in my life a lot of my friends I had in school are getting pregnant or have little babies. A lot of moms who say they are done start feeling weepy or wistful when faced with pregnant friends or new babies. They may still say they are done, but inside they whisper “Awww, I want.” Me, not so much. I go “Man I don’t miss being that big,” and “I so don’t miss newborn poop,” things like that.
Unfortunately, everyone seems to think it’s time for me to have another kid. My relatives now seem to think I’m old enough to have kids and be excited about being pregnant… but I don’t want to. They had three other chances to get happy and excited. Ryan desperately wants a baby brother. Belly is on a baby-obsession kick. And John gets a little wistful look when babies get mentioned. The only person on my side is Zach who has threatened to move out if I have another baby.