The 3 Kids Debate

So yeah. Our third baby is on its way.

The funny thing is that if you had asked me a year ago, I was still firmly in the “No way. We are done. D-O-N-E” camp. In fact, in the year after Vivienne was born, I was so sure that we were done that I sold most of our baby gear. Swaddle blankets, newborn outfits, bouncer, car seat, play mat, rock ‘n’ play, Bumbo, Snuza alarm, jumperoo… all my maternity clothes. I saw absolutely no reason to keep it lying around here if we could get rid of it for some cash back in our pockets.

Ha. Haha. Hahahahaha.

Before we were married, we always talked about having three kids. We had two siblings each, and enjoyed growing up with more than one sibling. We have good relationships with our siblings, and wanted that for our kids. But then we started having children. Nora was a fantastic baby (and has overall been a great kid), but even just after her birth, I began reconsidering the three kids thing. Once we actually had a baby, I switched over to a “let’s see how it goes” mindset. I mean, I never wavered away from having at least two children, but I was definitely unsure about three.

Even after declaring we were done after two, though, I always said I would never say never. Still, I would say I was at least 95% sure it was a done deal. Then, one day last January, I started to notice some doubt creeping in. Maybe… just maybe… I didn’t feel so done? Vivienne was 17 months old. I spent a lot of time trying to push the “one more” feelings to the back of my head and heart. But I remember admitting my feelings for the first time at a hair appointment, of all places. My stylist is a good friend I went to college with, so we have history. At this time, her second baby was about 5 months old and we were talking about kids. She asked me if I was done and I told her, “I used to be 95% sure. Now I’m maybe only 75%.” She laughed and said if I needed to get back up to 95%, she’d lend me her baby to remind me of what it’s like.

So, still, I wasn’t dying to have another baby or anything. It was just this persistent nagging somewhere inside that was urging me not to be so sure about shutting that door. Literally RIGHT around this same time, a blogger friend, Erin—one who had often expressed her satisfaction and the desire to be done with two—announced she was pregnant with #3. My reaction was seriously like WHAT.THE.HELL. How could you do this to me? What is this betrayal?! LOL. I’m exaggerating, of course, but I did send her a note/left a comment to say “You were one of the moms who gave me such confidence in being done with two! I’ve been having these feelings about #3 and now YOU of all people go and announce you’re having a #3?! WHAT HAPPENED?!” She ended up posting about how it came about (her husband was the first to bring it up), their thought process, and she wrote that her husband had said something that struck me as profound—”Our 55-year-old selves will thank us for this.” DAMN IT, BEN (whom I have never met). Why must you be so logical?

That one thought honestly changed my perspective on the whole thing. From that point on, any time the feelings of doubt came up—and then when I tried to fight them—I urged myself not to base my feelings or decision on the tough times that are short-lived. So I didn’t want to decide NOT to have a third baby because I didn’t want to be pregnant again. Or because I didn’t want to go through the sleepless nights anymore. Or because I didn’t want to deal with a third “threenager.” In the grand scheme of things, these phases of life are so very brief, and although they can be tough, I needed to also remember how rewarding it all was.

But the truth was that I really didn’t want to be pregnant again. I had finally gotten into an exercise routine (CrossFit) that I love—something that I hadn’t been able to do since before Nora!—and was feeling really good about my body. Selfishly, I was so hesitant to “ruin” that progress. Thinking about being up multiple times a night, nursing, pumping, signing up for 2-3 additional years of diapers, MORE DAYCARE… it was not exactly appealing. And logistical things like getting everybody ready in the mornings, leaving the house, getting everyone where they need to go, more sicknesses, shopping with 3, carting everyone to extracurriculars as they get older, and so on… that was all so very overwhelming.

We don’t know very many people with three kids, which made it even more intimidating. It felt like we were venturing into somewhat uncharted territory, even though we both come from families with three kids. Somehow, it feels like that was a different time, it’s different today, blah blah. I felt like all of the moms I know with three kids have some kind of special circumstances different from mine—they stay at home, they work only part-time, they have really helpful/available family (so therefore don’t pay for daycare). I questioned whether we could really do it.

I had a lot of thoughts about the future, though, and how nice it would be to have THREE children to (hopefully) come home at Christmas. How heartwarming it could be to watch the relationship between the three of them blossom and change as they grow up together. More grandchildren (potentially). More voices. More laughter. More love.

You might be asking where Michael was in all of this. OBVIOUSLY I never intended to make this decision myself, but I wanted to have my own feelings in order before I started processing his. After Vivienne was born and I was sure about being done, Michael basically left it up to me. He said that I’m the one who has to do all of the hard stuff (not really true—he does a lot) so it was really my decision. When I started having the “third baby” feelings, I still didn’t bring it up for quite a while. I continued to feel really unsure about it, and like I said, a large part of me was still trying to convince myself that I didn’t want to do it. It was such a gradual process. I was 95% sure, then I was suddenly maybe 75% sure… 70%, 60%… it took time. And then I was nervous. What if Michael didn’t want a third? And perhaps even more scary… what if he did??

I think it was April or May when the feelings had become so persistent and strong that I finally had the guts to bring it up. We were hanging out on the couch one Saturday night with beers and TV. And I just… said it. That I was starting to think I wasn’t so sure about being done. I think he was surprised. But he said he was definitely open to it. The only reason he had been done was because I was so done. We had a long discussion about it.

Looking back, I think the decision was basically made during that one conversation that night. It seems obvious in hindsight that after that conversation, a third baby was definitely in the cards for us. But it had to marinate for a while. We mentioned it in passing, in conversation, a lot. We talked frequently in hypotheticals about it. “IF we have a third baby”… “IF I’m pregnant next year”… “IF we’re a family of 5.” We didn’t do anything rash, we didn’t make any moves. We just let the idea sit out there for a while, visiting it whenever it felt right.

When we were on vacation in Ocean City in July, I started to realize that we were creeping up on the “ideal timing.” I’ve always tried to avoid having winter babies. I mean, if it had worked out that way for us, fine, but if we were blessed to be able to plan such a thing, I wanted to. I feel like I have seasonal affective disorder/winter depression during the cold months (at least from January-March) every year, so I never wanted to stack baby blues and a maternity leave on top of that. Sunshine and warmth is good for my soul when I’m NOT a hormonal mess, so that weather is even better for me when I am.

Anyway, Michael and I had a “go or no go” conversation and made the official decision to make the leap.

In September, the week leading up to Nora’s birthday, I felt weird. I was having these strange yet somewhat familiar “stretching/pulling” type feelings in my lower abdomen and I just had a feeling. It was really early on and it seemed crazy, but I was feeling pretty sure that I was pregnant. I bought a box of pregnancy tests on my lunch break, and the next morning, I couldn’t resist the temptation to pee on a stick and find out for sure if my feelings were correct.

There was a very faint second line. It was September 10th.

The rest is history, or so they say. I can write more details about the pregnancy itself in future posts, but that’s the road we took to get here. We feel very fortunate to be blessed with a third child. It’s still sort of surreal and hard to imagine.

One thing for sure is that the desire to “go for a boy” was nowhere on our radar during the process of making this decision. We DO.NOT.CARE. Seriously. That seems to be a common assumption so I’m just putting it out there. See my post from over a year ago on my feelings on “the perfect family.” At my first OB appointment at nine weeks, my OB gently inquired, “Are you guys really pulling for a boy this time?” I told her honestly, no, either would be fine—we’re not putting that kind of pressure on this pregnancy. She responded, “OK, good, because you should know that after you have two children of the same sex, your chances of having another of that same sex are higher.” She went on to say that instead of it being 50/50, it goes up to like 54/46. So, nothing crazy, but good to know. We shall see. It’s going to be another delivery room surprise. :)

I’m going to try to post regular updates on this pregnancy like I did with Nora and Vivienne. I’m already behind, though. Figures. If I thought the second child got the shaft in some ways, this third baby is going to have it even worse. Sorry, baby. I love you, though. I swear.

So, three kids. I’m going to be a mom to three kids.