More than Enough
Tiny onesies, wee sleepers, piles of pink and blue. A collection of infant carseats and other scattered baby items. Extra diapers in assorted sizes. I have kept them all.
Even as we prepared for our recent move, I refused to get rid of any of our baby items. Our second was just over a year, and what a blissful year it had been. I was shocked to find myself considering another baby. For someone who once upon a time wasn’t sure she wanted any, thoughts of adding a third were very surprising indeed. At any rate, I couldn’t make such an enormous decision in the middle of a move. Slightly embarrassed, I stuck to my guns. No decision would be made until we were settled in our new home.
And now? For the most part, we are settled. We are happy with our move back to our hometown, a routine is slowly taking shape and the two kids we have are happy, healthy and bringing us great joy.
Two years ago, I was about four and a half months pregnant with our second baby. I was ecstatic to be so blessed. My first pregnancy, the one that brought us our son, was a road we had walked so easily. However, the road became distinctly less smooth as we walked it to reach our daughter, our lovely second baby. We learned how precious the life we were trying to create really was.
I loved being pregnant. With both my children, it felt like a miracle. Pregnant with my first, I remember joking “It’s like having a hidden superpower! I can make people!”
And when our second babe was four months old, deliciously cuddly and sleeping such long hours…well, I couldn’t get enough of her. She had the perfect peach fuzzy head, and was so content; I thought…I could do this again. Maybe a third? What if? Maybe this was our destiny, a houseful of children.
And yet, here we are. We have a sweet and smart boy who will be six come fall, so full of imagination and laughter. And we have a bright spark of a little girl, 19 months old, who charms everyone and makes us laugh like crazy. They adore each other, and we them. My mind and heart almost cannot hold how fortunate we are. I look at them and know that there are no dreams I have that are unrealized, that these two beautiful children complete our family.
As much as I miss that little peach fuzzy head and the sweetness of my babes when they were small; I look forward to our future with these two. I can’t wait to travel more easily with them and to have them take in all that the world has to offer. I’d like to talk with them and hear what they think of this big, crazy planet. And there are days when I’d trade our lovely long afternoon naptime for two kids who could go all day and take in outings longer than three hours.
I do not wish away these young years, yet I wonder at starting it all over again. Something inside tells me we might have our perfect family already. Two years ago, at 22 weeks pregnant with our second baby, I looked like this. And I am left to wonder, will I again? Or are the two we have more than enough?
(My only belly shot: a cute, but fuzzy pic of me taken for friends out of town who were sad to be missing seeing me pregnant.)
