I always thought we’d start trying for Number Two when Number One was about a year old.
Well, Cakes is a year old. When someone has the nerve to ask when we’ll start trying for Number Two I laugh at them.
I have absolutely no desire to make another baby yet.
I feel alone in this sentiment. My buddies with whom I went through the first pregnancy are mostly excited about the second.
Just thinking about it makes me feel nauseous.
I know there are reasons. I hated being pregnant (I also hate it when women tell me how much they loved being pregnant and that they miss it. Are you kidding me?) Cakes’ birth was rough, and I’m still getting over it emotionally. I feel light-headed when I think about it. Yet, I know other moms who experienced difficult births and they jumped back on the horse.
I’ve only just begun to feel like jumping my husband again.
The good thing is, S. and I agree about waiting for the second. He found the past year equally hard. We finally feel normal again. Cakes is a blast. We are sleeping. We’ve gotten the move over with. We have a social life again. I feel sexy again. I have time to read and write (barely). We’re not ready to give all that up.
We’ve even considered not even trying for Number Two (but decided we probably will).
Many people think kids are much better off if they have siblings and they’re close in age. Does that make us selfish for not wanting to provide that?
If there are any other moms who feel this way, I’d love to hear from them!
Labels: on motherhood