I’m not sure if Jeff’s biological clock is tick-tick-ticking….shit, I’m not even sure if penis people HAVE the proverbial biological clock.  What I do know is this…..I can literally count on at least once per day to hear Jeff utter the words “let’s try to have another baby”. 

Ok, for those that have been following my previous blogs, you will have noticed that pregnancy is not such an easy ride for me.  Between Nicklas and Joshua, they’ve actually gotten progressively more harrowing.  And, let’s just put it right out there…momma is NOT getting any younger.  I just turned 36 in May.  In other words, I just recently crossed the age threshhold for being high risk.  And since I’m already high risk due to my Type One Diabetes….that makes me what?  Super Duper Double high risk…..So, when I say that I’m not even sure I WANT another baby, I’m not entirely joking.

On the other hand…there is my happy ass wonderful head penis person.  There was once upon a time in our relationship I had to drag him, kicking and screaming like a banshee, into the mere IDEA of joining the parent trap.  When did this man suddenly feel so fucking paternal, for God’s sake??  He knows how my heart once ached for a little tiny girl to love and bond with and dress up.  He dangles the prospect of trying for her in my face so often that I can practically smell her hair that would be the same shade as mine (well, my natural color anyway). 

And then I tend to rationalize that he, sly head penis person that he is, thinks he can outsmart me.   He’s gone and convinced himself that HE only makes BOYS!  He actually once joked that one of my girlfriends (who has all girls) should call him if she really wants a boy.  Ummm…..can you say really fucking delusional???  Anyway, so there is a part of me that senses he’d like to add to his little academy of penis people and is merely misleading me in the hopes that he will get his way.

Regardless….THIS is why I’m so very thankful that I, after having Joshua, opted for SUPER DUPER birth control.  That shit is solidly in place for the next five years, damn near fool proof and not something I can reverse without a medical intervention and a lot of thought.  I didn’t want to rely on a pill that I’m likely to forget.  Condoms are out because, well, I’m a married woman, not a prostitute.  The rhythm method (or more effectionately known in circles as the pull and pray method) is eh-ok, except that it would only take a little conniving and some cheap liquor from Jeff and I would find myself probably mothering a third child.   And lets face it….a decision that monumental should NOT be left up to a deviously charming husband and some vodka…..oh, wait…..CRAP, that’s how we got Joshua…..(((mental note—make up better story for how we decided to have Joshua in the unlikely event that he happens to ask one day, which I know realistically he probably won’t, but still…just in case))).

There are many reason I’m not entirely sold as my husband is on having another….and the most important difference for men and women is this…..men don’t have to carry a child.  I know its archiac to think that it could come down to just simply that, but it really does.  Yes, equally archaic is the idea that Jeff is the one who will primarily be responsible for financing this endeavor, but in our home, that’s the way it is.  And Jeff thinks since he’s confident he/we can handle things financially, what’s the problem.  But I have concerns….valid concerns that shouldn’t, nor will, be dismissed.

After I had Joshua, I literally felt I would lose my mind.  I know now that it was PPD, but at the time…..I was positively  irrational and just thought I was a horrible mom.  What kind of a woman doesn’t really feel love for their kid and routinely calls him “mean”???  What kind of mom, though not having thoughts of injuring the wee one, literally wanted to find a safe looking corner and leave the baby, car seat and diaper bag included, on the street so that maybe a nice family or a caring stranger could find him and take him somewhere where he would be loved.  Because its just obviously wrong to be mean to a harmless infant, I tended to take out my anger on Nicklas.  No, I never harmed him either, but I was just screaming at him all the time for doing normal 5 yr old things, like talking and playing.   Jeff worked midnights and so, here I was home alone with a newborn all night long and then as well all day, because, once Jeff got home—the daytime was his nighttime.  And while I know he would have gotten up to help me at a moments notice, I thought I had to be super mom and do it all alone, lest I be judged as failing.  So I bottled it up and sucked it all down and struggled every fucking day.  And I’ll be brutally honest….after that experience (and some wonderful happy pills that made me feel a little more human again)…..I’m not sure I’m mentally prepared to go back there again.  And no one can promise me I won’t.

So, while I search my heart and soul for the revelation of whether or not I want to try again….I’m quite grateful that the decision is completely MINE right now….and NOT Jeff’s and a cheap bottle of vodka.

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