I always wanted three. Since a young age, playing with my dolls houses with my sisters, one of my favourite childhood pastimes, I always said I wanted to be a mum of three. Read more…
I fell pregnant after 9 months of ‘trying’ in 2005, aged 25 and had a good pregnancy, and with the exception our Son making his debut exactly three weeks early, the whole thing went to plan. Times were certainly a different then, and with no Mum’s and Dad’s to rely on during the dawn of our parental era, I’m not ashamed to say it was tough.
And as daunting as finding our parental feet was, spending time with our Son, all of us learning new things together, watching him grow into his own personality was all fun, later mixed with money issues after hubby got made redundant, and with me back working part time after just 6 months’ maternity leave, it was certainly a challenge.
But nevertheless, there was always going to be a second and in February 2009, No.2 arrived, a little girl this time, adding a whole new dynamic to family life. The toughness and juggling continued over the coming years and now Hubby was self employed, spending hours looking for work, and working long hours when he found it.
I was still working part time, 4 days a week around our Son’s school hours and was responsible for the kid’s day to day schedules, and my own. I had become some kind of strategic OCD stricken time machine! I knew exactly how long things took (or how long they should!), I knew traffic patterns on certain says of the week, train times, public swimming times, nappy change and dinner time in nursery so I could collect our Daughter afterwards to ease my workload. I had it all mapped out, except Hubby’s home time, which I could never predict. I even started University and managed to fit a degree in with a 4 and 1yr old, no idea how looking back, but we got through it. We were busy with life and the years passed and the kids got older. Our Daughter started school and Hubby’s work settled into a pattern, allowing me to take on more hours in the job I loved, having been there since I left school. We were good, we had a routine, and we were happy.
At the ages of 6 and 3, I was fully aware that there wasn’t a baby in the house any longer and was thinking about the possibility, and feasibility, of a third. Yes, there were still toys, but no more nappies, or potty training, bottles had long gone as had baby massages after bath, nursery rhymes, and thankfully, sleepless nights! But there was a definite ache that I felt as a result of no longer having these things on my radar. Reading school books replaced The Baby Whisperer, laying out uniform replaced choosing cute outfits to show off at baby club, and taking a short walk to school at the bottom of the hill overtook long, casual buggy rides.
But the slightly lesser dependency on us was also nice. I could brush my teeth without rushing, the youngest could now go to the loo on her own, and I was waking her in the morning as opposed to the opposite! I could actually vouch for the ‘8-hour sleep after kids’ rumour that I’d heard about! Work was good, I was taking a managerial role after having been there for 14 years at this point, and was excited! I’d always been a career girl and always wanted to be a working mum, and with Hubby starting a new business, the future looked good. With more money coming into the house, we could enjoy holidays and days out, and the longing for another baby soon drifted away.
Fast forward to today, kids aged 11 and 8 and me the right side of 40, plus with three of my school friends pregnant, the contemplation of another regularly creeps back in. Hubby is against the idea, and he’s kind of an integral part of the plan I know, but he could maybe be persuaded? I guess like any ‘venture’ in life, it takes a lot of thought and planning, two things I enjoy doing, but without a crystal ball to see how another little person will fit into our established, settled lifestyle, with the kids, employment and the work|life balance, it’s difficult to foresee.
Maybe we stay at 2.4 children and spend the extra time, money and love we would on a new addition on the two happy and healthy children we already have, and go back to my childhood times of playing with baby dolls rather than real ones. But I do fear that in a few years, which will undoubtedly pass quick, the question of ‘Are we done yet?’ will be purely rhetorical.
Rhian
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