My entire life I have longed for a sibling. No matter how many extra hours I work, how creative I am, or how much money I save, it is one of the only things in life that I cannot obtain or work hard to achieve. I have a wonderful sister in law and brother in law, but it just isn't the same as someone with whom I've shared whole life with.
Because of this, I am (my husband too) 100% committed to attempting to have more children and/or adopting. We are starting to think about trying again, probably in the fall. If all goes as well as it did the last time, and we conceive quickly again, our children would be about 4 years apart. A good age, far enough a part to have different friends but close enough to play well together. The same number of years apart as my mother and her brothers.
It is not hard to notice Malone is getting very independent. He travels well, he is ridiculously obedient, he does well eating out. I can read while he plays by himself on the floor or is engaged in an art project. Planning a girls night out doesn't involve the thoughts of pumping.
In short, the days of him needing me 100% of the time are ending.
And I have a chance to find a piece of me again. The piece that I lost when I was so entrenched in the world of baby. For the first time in a long time, I am planning things for me. Independent of him.
I am so committed to giving Malone a sibling. I desire it with heart of hearts.
But I hate the baby stage, oh so much. The constant need it puts on my mind and my body. I'm not a baby person. I'm just not.
I am a toddler/preschool person. I've known since my days as a nanny. Yes, totally all the way in awe of the learning, the singing, the exploration, the speech, and the imagination.
And I can't get this quote out of my mind. I heard it this weekend at a production of The Vagina Monologues that my friend Tara was in.
"My vagina helped release a giant baby. It thought it would be doing more of that. It's not. Now, it wants to travel..." Eve Ensler, The Vagina Monologues