It’s happened. I’ve finally gone completely insane. After everything we’ve been through with pregnancy sickness, exhaustion, prenatal and postnatal depression, etc etc etc. I now want another baby. Ugh what is wrong with me?!?
I swore I’d never get pregnant again, that it was so awful that I couldn’t go through it again, let alone put my poor husband and kid through it again. And here I am. Wanting more kids. The only explanation is that I am clinically insane. Or that hormones are more powerful than sense and reason?? No wonder there are so many babies in the world.
When I was pregnant with Teddy I felt so awful that I couldn’t appreciate the different stages and accomplishments that Archie was going through. I simply couldn’t sit on the floor and play with him. I couldn’t do anything nice like baking, colouring, even reading books with him was tricky. So maybe now that I’m free to watch Teddy grow and change and actually enjoy it, as well as do more things with Archie too, I want to add more little ones into the mix?? I’m loving seeing the different personality traits in each of them, noticing the differences between them as they grow, and seeing them explore things for the first time. I can really sit and marvel at the whole growing-up thing.
Even on really trying days when I just want to throttle them both, I end the day thinking how nice it would be to have another little person (or 2!) toddling around and adding their tiny shoes, wide eyes and messy fingers to our lives.
Daddy Bear isn’t quite so broody, however, and is resolutely (and sensibly) refusing to even consider having more kids. I think the only way another child will be added to our little family is if it happens by accident, despite various forms of contraception! Or by adoption, but I’m still working on that, and that’s for another post another day. Now back to gazing at my boys lovingly, and trying to soak in every moment, every new word spoken, every smile and cuddle in the hope that I can slow time down and that I won’t miss anything.