It was time.
Time to have that conversation. The “should we or shouldn’t we have another baby” conversation. Our daughter was almost one, no one in our house was getting any younger. I am a third child and had always wanted a third child. My husband would have been happy to stop after two. We had tabled the conversation until this day, I had bargained with Josh that if I hadn’t made up my mind 100% on having baby no. 3 by this date, we could be done.
Only, I panicked. I couldn’t decide right at that moment. Life was easy. The bottles were gone, the formula was gone. My massage therapy practice was solid. For the first time in three years we were able to easily pay all of our bills. Life, for the first time in a long time, was manageable.
And yet, I just couldn’t pull the plug on the third baby opportunity.
“I need more time! I can’t make this decision right now!”
I expected an argument, at the very least mild irritation. My husband was looking forward to that vasectomy in a way that was almost un-natural. He responded with vague amusement at my dramatic proclamation and an easy acceptance of tabling the conversation for six more months.
I took a deep breath. We had more time. There was no rush.
Twelve hours later I sat in the bathroom staring at a plus sign on a white stick and wondering how in the hell we had managed to have sex in the last 30 days, let alone create another human being.
I called my husband. We took the conversation off the table, laughed and celebrated.
That plus sign turns three today.
We expect more of him in a different way that we do our older two children. He stays up later and naps less. Travels more. Is expected to keep up with a routine that often exhausts me. Comes home to parents who are older and busier and much less patient than they should be. Handles his frustration as best as he can but loses his shit quite often.
So I hug him more, hold him closer. Tell him all of the secrets of being a third child. Just wait, little buddy, I whisper, tired parents mean you are going to get away with so much shit when you are older. Just wait, little buddy, someday you will be pummel your older brother when he isn’t looking and it will be the sweetest moment of your life. Just wait my little man, there will be a day that you can go too.
Be patient, sweet boy, you’ll catch up soon. All too soon.