After Elliot was born we said we were done. Two kids was all we could handle. And to be honest, the thought of three boys gives me anxiety.
After Elliot turned one, though, I started having doubts. Especially when seeing more and more pregnancy announcements from friends and even more so when seeing so many of them adding the opposite sex sibling to their families. I started to wonder if maybe we shouldn't be done. Maybe we should consider adding #3 to our family and maybe getting the baby girl that I know Jonathan would love to have.
Then last week happened.
I had been feeling kind of crappy for a few days. I'd been having horrible workouts and had been completely nauseated two evenings in a row. While we were out back pushing the boys on the swings I said something about how I felt so crappy. Jonathan jokingly said "You aren't pregnant, are you?". I pointed out that I have an IUD and he mentioned that one of his riding buddies ended up with a kid even though his wife has one.
I instantly felt a little panic rise in my chest. I knew I had a pregnancy test up in the bathroom and decided to take it the next morning just to rule it out. When I woke up on Friday I fumbled the package open and nervously took it. The whole time I was waiting for the answer to pop up I felt this sense of dread. I wasn't anxiously staring at it praying to see a positive, I was thinking "WTF do we do if it's positive?"
After I figured enough time had elapsed I started to glance at it and said a silent prayer that it would be negative. I have never been so happy to see these two words:
I didn't feel any sadness about seeing a negative. Instead I felt an enormous sense of relief. That's when I knew. We're done.
Don't get me wrong - I love little babies and I do miss mine being so small and snuggly. Looking back at at their newborn pictures does make me nostalgic, but what it doesn't do it make me want to start over.
Maybe it's because things are starting to get a tiny bit easier. Elliot is getting slightly more independent so I can actually breathe. Maybe it's because Elliot is such a handful that I can't imagine keeping an eye on him while dealing with a newborn. I know it's definitely because I'm finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel with daycare expenses. Andrew has his interview with the school next week to possibly get him into the 4 year old kindergarten and I'm getting my hopes up that he'll get in and we'll start saving $1K+ per month. Once we move Elliot to Discovery Center we'll be paying a little more than we are now, but Andrew should be in school by that point so it won't be too bad. I'll also have my car paid of by that point, which will be another huge savings. As it stands right now between daycare and my car we are shelling out over $30K per year. That is ridiculous. But I can see the end and once we're there we will be getting a big-ass raise. So that's a huge reason that the idea of starting over from square one made me feel physically ill.
I have a sneaking suspicion that Jonathan would not mind an 'oops' baby based on some comments he's made, but I'm not going for it. As far as I'm concerned we are DONE. Seeing some pregnancy announcements over the last few days hasn't made me feel any sadness or jealousy, either. After my little scare I now only feel happiness for my friends.
So there you have it - the Walker family is perfectly complete as a family of four. And with these two cuties I'm feeling very good about that: