The number 2

Ever since Lexi's first birthday, I have been flooded with inquiries as to when we'll have our second. I realize this is a common question (at least I assume it is) and that they are all well-meaning inquiries. But can anyone really predict something like that? (Oh, wait I guess there ARE people who can. They are not people I wish to have these conversations with.) However, with these questions I can't help but still feel that sting. The sting that came with every "When are you guys going to start having kids?" that we got during our stint of infertility. Not everyone knew what we were going through at the time so the comments were innocent, purely conversational (most of the time) or to satisfy the curiosity of wide eyed new parents that wanted us to join their little "club".

This time around, it is easier. I have the child I had always hoped for and I feel so grateful to finally be called "mom". There are so many wonderful people in this world that would make amazing parents that are on a very rocky road to get there and not for a second do I take for granted that God blessed me with this miracle. I have even come to terms with the idea of having just one child, knowing that if that is the case, it is enough. Lexi IS enough. She is a wonderful, perfect creation that I am beyond blessed to have as my daughter. I can picture us in the future with just her, enjoying life and getting to give her our full attention. And frankly right now, I think she may be all I can handle for the time being. Her extra needs keep me busy and I like knowing that I can spend all of my time working with her and helping her reach her full potential through therapy.

Now let me clarify. I desperately want another child. Maybe not now, but definitely in the future. And does it scare me to death that that may never happen? Of course! But what scares me more is the emotional side of it. As I stated before, I know we could be a very happy family, just the 3 of us. There is no doubt in my mind. But when the time rolls around for us to try to make things happen, I just don't want to deal with all the emotional garbage attached to it. I don't miss the days of crying over my period, or over another baby announcement. I don't miss them AT ALL. And it has been so refreshing feeling a contentedness in that part of my life for the time being. But I feel it creeping back into my life slowly and stealthily. It's one of those things where I didn't really know it was there, but as time goes on and Lexi gets older, it's making it's way back into my soul.

And to explain this just a bit further, there has been hardly any use of any sort of BC for us since Lexi was about 2 months old. I refuse to count any of this (ahem .. 10.5 months) because it might launch me into panic mode. It's not a LONG time since we aren't "trying" right? And really, it's not a long time if you compare it to our original stint of infertility OR to many other of my dear friends who have gone years and years without achieving their FIRST pregnancy. So I need to put on my big girl panties and buck up. I think there will always be that scar though. The one that you have on your heart from the first experience that led you to believe that it was hopeless. Granted, there was a happy ending and we have The Chub Muffin to show for it so the scar shouldn't be that deep, right? Maybe it shouldn't, but it is.

And that folks, is why the number 2 is a touchy subject for me right now.