I am slowly but surely coming to terms with the fact that we may only ever have one child. Last November I really wanted another baby and R and I were both on board. Looking back now, I think we were lucky that it didn't work, because I am stretched so thin right now, there's no way I could handle another baby.
It makes me a little sad (downgraded from a lot sad). I really enjoy my siblings now that we are all mostly adults and I feel bad that I may not be able to provide that for the Moosh. I'm sad that I may never get to have a homebirth (although if I'm honest with myself I have to admit that it is a long shot anyway). I'm sad that I won't get a chance to nurse a baby again.
On the flip side I'm happy that we are getting past the baby stage and I won't have to go through all that again. I am not a baby/toddler person. One of the reasons that I use the TV so much is that I simply can't stand playing games that babies like. I find it mind-numbing and get distracted easily. I don't like baby books. I don't like being puked on. I live for the day that the Moosh walks up to me and says, "Mom, I'm going to throw up!" Then, at least, I have a chance of containing it somehow.
I wish I were a supermom and domestic goddess who possesses all the patience in the world. I wish that I could handle another baby. I just don't think I can. I can be a fantastic mom to one child, or a mediocre mom to two children. If I'm honest with myself, I realize that I'm far more inclined to be a fantastic mom to one child.
I really feel the need to make a concrete decision about this. I can't stand this maybe we will/maybe we won't waffling any longer. If we are not going to have any more kids then we need to start making schooling decisions and so forth so that the poor Moosh can start making friends. The once a week playgroup just isn't meeting his social demands right now.
So to recap: I am sad, yet happy, but tired of sitting on the fence. It is time to fish or cut bait. Right. I'll get on that immediately.