I have a girl, aged six, and a boy, now three.
Our so-called ‘gentleman’s family’ is complete.
I resolutely threw out my baby stuff once my son was out of the newborn stage. Breast pumps; sterilisers; a moses basket; mountains of vests and teeny-tiny socks and hats and mittens – all gone, given away to friends or offered to charity shops.
So I can’t afford a third child: I definitely can’t afford a third round of child-care… and now I also can’t afford to replace all the baby stuff that is vacant from our home.
I’m exhausted, of course, and while the era of nappies, getting up in the middle of the night, and toddler tantrums isn’t over yet, the blissful end is in sight.
Throw the fact that my husband says he’s absolutely done-and-dusted… and suffice to say that the prospect of another baby is slim.
So why can’t I shake off that illogical urge for a third baby? A small, newborn bundle of loveliness for my daughter and son to adore. Another pair of feet to stomp about; another pair of hands to clap along with; another pair of lungs to scream and yell; another pair of eyes to gaze into.
My friends – including those with two smallies themselves – reckon I’m mad. But the sights of pregnant women on the street, pictures of scans shared by friends, or a glimpse of a little person tucked up in a pram is enough to make me melt.
I think of – finally! – mastering the parenting of a newborn. I struggled on my first baby four years ago, but then found the second time easier (if still far from perfect).
Baba No.3? I assume I’d be something of a pro! Because I’d be able to enjoy having a newborn around the house so much more than when you’re worried about every little thing – not least your own abilities.
And so I tell myself that the reality of a third baby coupled with a full-time job and a marriage and all the rest would probably break me.
I keep in mind the responsibilities I have now to my two perfect babies.
I remind myself to be fully content and happy with the family I have.
I smile and nod and tell my friends and family that ‘we’re done and happy with our two…’
But completely, entirely, absolutely, ruling out a third? That I’m not ready to do quite yet…
