Selfish or Selfless: The Baby Debate Continues

Wanting another little person, little smiles and little feet... little fingers and toes and kissable tummies and cheeks, wanting all those things is not selfish. It's natural.

But already having those things, packaged into the most adorable little people known as Chase and Conner and still wanting more, is that selfish?

It's very selfless to be a mother. To give up sleep and energy, careers and oodles of cash (or I'd like to THINK oodles of cash if I were working), is pretty selfless. You give and give and give, and aside from the heartmelting hugs and nights when you catch them sleeping all angelic like, most parents don't get a meaningful "thanks for everything" until said children are in their 20-somethings IF they are lucky.

It takes patience, luck, tears, some serious balance, and lots of love to parent two small children - and sometimes, it can be the most under appreciated job on the planet. You scrub boogers off walls, pick dirt out of ears, fight tooth-and-nail over teeth that need brushing and short-order cook yourself silly for your tiny Nazi children.

It's selfless to want more of that. To offer everything and not expect more than sharing the life of a child.

But, is it selfish to want more? Possibly, it's the most selfish thing anyone able to produce babies can do AND it almost seems like those of us who are fortunate enough to have more children are selfish to stop, too. I am no stranger to the Infertility community online (try The Stirrup Queen, she's amazing). I feel for those families, and it makes me think that I'm selfishly being comfortable with just two. Just. Two. Isn't that enough?

I once said that I didn't want to have a second after Conner because I thought "if I am this bad of a mother, if I can't get the dishes clean or the laundry done or some other mundane task completed, then how could I ever add another little person to the mix and expect anything to get better."

I thought that I'd be a worse mother if I had two kids, like twice the mess would make me half the mother.

But I couldn't have been more wrong. I think I've quoted her on this subject before, but I'll say it again, Staci once told me that you just do what you have to do. That's it.

She's so right.

Yes, I complain. I complain more in person that I do on here (could that even be true? yes. yes, it is). When I can't get the laundry caught up, and the dishes are mounting and I'm the only person who's picked up a toy in a week, I loose it. It's incredibly frustrating. And to do all that The Mom Job requires is selfless. Very, very selfless.

Selfish to want another? Selfless to raise that child. What a pickle.

Alright, Who Let My Uterus Blog?

(dually titled: Wifi in my Uteri - harhar)

In case you couldn't see me blushing for the last 48 hours, just know I've been beet red (well, virtually beet red - this is The Internets).

It's not that my last post wasn't completely and exactly 100% what I am thinking and feeling, it's just that I'm either A) going balls out (excuse the term) B) really hormonal or C) absolutely bonkers. It's equally as plausible that I am all of the above or a whacked out combination of some of those letters and any of the 23 letters that follow.

I'm also very confident that shortly post post, my mother freaked out and called my grandmother, who then proceeded in phone-a-friend fashion to alert my aunt and by tomorrow (Sunday), my ovaries and I will probably be on some church bulletin in Pleasant Grove, Alabama as well as the conversation topic at Tuesday's Pot Luck Bingo Night.

Actually, none of that's probably true - my mom is good at staying mum (see what I did there? I slay me).

But the truth of it all, is that there's this kid. And, I've never ever been a "kid person". 

Feel free to do one of two things: 1) Gasp and have a "Oh dear, bless her sweet heart" moment and wonder how ANYONE could not like these blessed angels that walk amongst us AND think to yourself "well, if she's not a kid-person, then why the chicken is she having BABIES and BLOGGING ABOUT it!" or 2) Nod in agreement because at some point in your life, you've had the misfortune pleasure of knowing me pre-crazy monster/child hybridsbaby and were FLOORED when you discovered (stalked?) that I settled down with a wonderful Hubster and 2 amazing wee-ones.

So, this kid. He's just so amazing. Always active, constantly learning, growing daily - and get this: he's MINE:

But the absolutely BONKERS part of this, is that he's not an infant or a baby, not even a toddler anymore. I keep finding him in certain situations in which he looks LIKE A PERSON. And he can do all these... big people things....

...like catching his first fish by himself...

And the next part that makes my entire reproductive system twinge is that I know what happens next! It doesn't STOP! THEY GET BIGGER!

Maybe it's the extra sleep that finally sent a memo from my uterus to my blog (apparently, I'm no longer needed, they've memorized my login information). The memo must have read:

Alert: All necessary reproductive organs. Eyes have observed eldest offspring appears less childlike and more school-ageish. Second offspring now sleeping through night and has rid himself of morning nap. Gear up for Operation: Make Amanda Fat Again, that is all. This message will self-destruct or become blog-worthy in the next 30 seconds....

Yeah, my insides talk just like that.

And they have a point! Or do they... could this be that Baby Clock most mid-twenty-somethings get? But see... I've already DONE this. Got the t-shirt and ultra-cool take home mug with hospital logo and EVERYTHING. I even got the honor of both a "normal" birth and one that ends in tears of delirium followed by 4 months of hell (woot.).

A lot of you said (wonderful) things like: you've got time, and it's ok, I feel your pain, and if you have another, it's fine to want a boy but you'd survive if you had a girl. Several of you went on with your bad selves and wished another baby on me, Donya... that FedEx package is my patented Fertile Juju Pregnancy Sauce, it also comes with a home pregnancy test, enjoy. 

Many of you pointed out that Someone Bigger Than Me (ok, I'm 4'10", almost ALL of you are bigger than me...) (I meant GOD) has His plan, and I should keep my so fresh and so clean clean (thanks swine flu) paws out of the Worry Department and more in the Raise The Kids You Have and See What Happens Department. As always, all of you made excellent points (and as always, I heart all of your faces...).

I can do that? Right? Let Go and Let God? But what about all that baby stuff? For now, let it sit and multiply. 

Notes From the Stirrups

                                                                            (yes, that's really me in a pickle)

Well, I never made a decision on whether or not to go ahead with the Mirena implant. It’s not for a lack of research, cause dudes, I’ve googled the begeezus out of it. I’ve spoken with high school friends about having something rammed up their hoo-has and into their uteri although I’d never of thought I’d of been speaking to people I once shared a swing with about post-baby birth control options.

Staci even shared with me about having to get the strings trimmed because her husband’s special member needed them to be shorter. I mean, ewww… he has cooties woman! You shouldn’t even share your animal crackers and juice with a nasty boy much less let him……….

Riiight.

Michael and I have had far more discussions than he even deemed necessary or plausible about how we were going to prevent anymore ridiculously cute children from partaking in my Uterus Parties (known AROUND THE WORLD – I’m sure…), and his final decision: It’s my body, so I should choose how to violate it. Hurmph. He’s no help.

He does agree that the Baby Parade has ended. Obviously, you kind people know how I feel about Being Pregnants again, but he has his own concerns. And according to this article, the economy has had some interesting affects on our baby makings – bringing a baby into the Apocalypse is EXPENSIVE and more people are turning to Mr. Latex than previous years. It’s cheap… it doesn’t require you to have anything plastic shoved through your cervix and into your uterus… it doesn’t cost $20 a month nor mandate you remember to take the darn thing every day… but as my Vagina Doctor says “It also doesn’t work in your nightstand”. So…. Yeah… he has a point. Umm -  Point:

 

                                                                             (but, isn't he adorable?)

Riiighht again.

So I’ve taken Michael’s “opinion” into consideration and the verdict is simple: I’m not doing crap for right now.  I’ve considered Natural Family Planning before, but my biggest concerns involve the length of my period staying lengthy, PMDD (Yoda says: diagnosed I am), and.. oh yea… IT NOT WORKING. [read: Dear Uterus, please cooperate and stay babyless. Thanks, The Management].

That’s just for now though. And although I say that, I can’t possibly imagine what would surface to change my mind. More information? Doubtful. My husband gaining an opinion? Ha. Silly you. My fear of bleeding rivers for weeks and labor contractions (!)? BRAAHAHA. Contain yourself, Amanda! 

-------------------------------

And I wrote all of that before I even went into the exam room.... I arrived at 2:50, my appointment was at 3, called into an exam room and disrobed myself around 4:45, then saw Vagina Doctor at 5:45! People, it was DARK OUTSIDE when I left, I was the very last person in the BUILDING, his practice CLOSES AT 5 and I had to UNLOCK THE FRONT DOOR JUST TO LEAVE! WTFrench?

So, I had alot of time to think about this.... again... And the unbelievably late nice Vagina Doctor tells me that the hormones levels in the Mirena are so small, that it does seem like the best option for me. He agrees that the pill, patch and ring are non-options, and with me not being regular in my cycles because I'm still breastfeeding, natural family planning would be fine if my husband is ok with avoiding me like the plague for about 12 days every month (I would love to tell you why condoms don't work if they break due to lack of lubricant in a breastfeeding woman, but people... that's so TMI for a blog! gah!).

He is giving me a cytotec (oh hell, after hyper extending during labor with Chase...), a valium and a pain killer. I think I'll throw in a handful of crack and some vodka (I kid people! I can't drink. SAD FACE!).  So the pain issue? Ha! I might not even know where I am! WOOHOO.

I'm going for it. 10 days. Right before my EGD (gulp). February is looking kinda painful...