The BIG baby question

Should we have another baby? This is a question that has been running through my mind like crazy lately. And it’s a question that I answer, then change my mind, then answer again. I’ve been to three pre-pregnancy doctor’s appointments, found an OB and even set a date for when we’ll start trying. And then my nerves get the best of me. Should we do it? Or should we not?

My husband is the quintessential, type-A man. He makes up his mind and then sticks to it. He’s decided if I want another baby we should have one. Now, maybe it’s just me, but that kind of answer puts the ball back in my court and freaks me the hell out. If I want one?? I’m rolling my eyes as I type that sentence. What do you mean if I want one, what about you? I want him to want this too. He already has another daughter from a previous marriage and our son. His picture is complete. I must stop here and mention that dear hubby and I have quite the age difference… an 11 year one to be exact. So, his only request is that if we’re going to do it we do it soon (no pun intended).

I grew up with a busy household I have a twin sister and an older brother. The perfect combination in my opinion. I had a built in best friend and a brother to torment and then look up to. It doesn’t get much better than that. My husband, however, was an only child. He doesn’t feel like he missed out on much as a child but being that I grew up the way I did… I know he did. When I compare his childhood to mine there’s no comparison in my mind. I know what it was like walking to the room next to mine for entertainment, to always have another kid at the table to eat dinner with and talk to, to go on “adventures” around our house and actually live with my best friends. The forts, the games, the bike rides, the secrets… the whole nine yards. And I want that for BJ. I see him play with other kids and laugh… I see him watch other kids playing together and yearn to have that for him.

But, my pregnancy with BJ was far less than perfect, from the bed rest to the premature birth. My diagnosis… INCOMPENENT CERVIX. It sounds like such an insult… my cervix is incompetent. It’s not able to hold up to its end of the bargain. It doesn’t have the capacity to do its job. I hate the term. But, it is what it is… it’s my cross to carry.  It scares me to death to go through what we went through with BJ again. What if the next baby doesn’t do as well? It would be our entire fault. We’d have to deal with those repercussions. But, what if it went well?? There’s that chance too right? How can I just say no without even trying?

I want giggles in my house. I want to hear children laughing and playing. I want to tell BJ to go play with his brother or sister or hold his or her hand when they cross the street. I want BJ to have a partner in life. Just the way that I did. But to do that, I’d have to face my biggest fear. I’d have to walk the road less traveled one more time and trust God that things will work out in our favor. It’s so much easier said than done. Do I want my vision for my family enough to step out there again? I guess time will tell…

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