I always wanted two kids, maaaaybe three if the first two were the same gender. They’d be evenly spaced – two years apart, close enough in age that they could play, but wouldn’t have the same classes at school. And we’d all live happily ever after.
After Madeline was born, I was afraid to have another child. Typical parent stuff – I didn’t know how I could possible love another child the way I loved her. Maddie had been through so much, she was so special, there was no way another child could be so special. Not to mention the trauma of her pregnancy. But, just like every other mom, I pushed the hard stuff to the back of my mind, and Mike and I were ready for another (possibly final) child.
And then everything changed.
Now, if my body could handle it (and Dr. Risky wouldn’t kill me) I would try for another child. And another. And another. My desire for lots and lots of children is overwhelming at times. I talk to my therapist about this a lot.
I just feel this…yearning, deep inside me, to be surrounded by my children. It’s almost desperation. And I keep telling my therapist that I think it’s because I am afraid to have another child die, afraid to be alone, and if I have a bunch of kids at least one of them will live an entire life. It’s complicated and messy and irrational.
I am never going to get my Maddie back. I am never going to be without the fear that I’ll lose another child. Somehow I am going to have to figure out how to live through this (that doesn’t involve exploding my uterus).
Luckily for my uterus, this child of mine has the energy of dozens and the attitude of thousands, so she does a good job of keep my reproductive urges to a minimum.
Although, her cuteness kind of makes me wonder what other ones would look like…