The debate still rages within.

I have never been so conflicted about anything in my life. Ever since I decided to become a mother, I assumed that I would have two children. No more, no less.  My reasons for not wanting more children may be considered selfish, but they are still valid reasons nonetheless.

I don’t want to be pregnant again. It was an incredible experience to be pregnant but it wasn’t necessarily enjoyable. Simply put, the lack of control over my body was an unpleasant experience. This may have something to do with my OCD tendencies, but I think a lot of women feel this way with or without acknowledging it. I felt the same way about breastfeeding for nine months. For 18 months, my body belonged to another human being. Now that another 18 months have gone by in which I’ve had complete control over my body, I’m not so sure I want to rent it out again.

I enjoy sleeping again. I enjoy having personal time for myself and time for the Dude. Getting time for myself, let alone with my husband, is a luxury. Infants and toddlers tend to put a marriage/partnership on the back-burner when it really needs to be a priority. All marriages/partnerships suffer when children come along and there is a big part of me that doesn’t want my marriage to be affected any more than it has already. Introducing children into your world can be the most beautiful thing in the world, but it can also create a huge strain on family dynamics.

I also want to go back to work again, sooner rather than later. The longer I stay home with young children and out of the work force, the longer my skill set, knowledge, and experience wanes. Working is not my priority right now but I often think about what it will be like when I finally head back. It makes me anxious, to say the least.

There is one thing that I keep going back to when it comes to welcoming another family member. The importance of giving the Monkey a sibling. I will be perfectly happy to go through life as a “trio formation”, as one reader commented on my previous post. But we won’t always be a trio. If life goes the way it should, the Dude and I will be gone long before the Monkey. His connection to the world will die with us. I’m assuming he will have his own family by then, but it would be nice if he had a brother or sister around as well.

Watching my own father and his brother grieve together during the recent passing of my grandmother really hit home how important siblings are throughout life. I am the oldest of  4 siblings (2 full, 2 half ) and I am very happy to have them in my life. With the two siblings I grew up with, we have a shared childhood experience that becomes more meaningful the older we become. The older I get, the more I also appreciate my brother and sister. I didn’t always feel that way. Like most kids with siblings, I would have much preferred to be an only child. No matter how much attention I received, it was never enough. There was daily fighting and bickering. But we eventually grew up and learned to appreciate one another, despite all of our differences. I think we all realized that as much as we are different, we are also inherently the same. We have similar values and give each other unfailing support. That alone will be something I cherish throughout my life.

The internal debate continues, but it’s a big decision that will need to be decided soon. I will be 34 this year and  I don’t want children past the age of 35.  Adoption is certainly a consideration but the Dude and I aren’t completely on the same page about it.  Let’s just say that having another bio-child is preferred and that adoption will be discussed more in-depth if that tactic should fail. But that’s another topic for another day.

Immediately after they become engaged another Big Question starts coming around: So when is the Big Day?

As soon as the newlyweds step off the plane from their honeymoon, The Big Question gets much, much bigger: So, when are you two having kids?

For some married/partnered couples, that question will never get answered. But for the rest of us, we hope that the Big Questions stop as soon as we push junior out.

Not so fast.

This ain’t China, yo. Unless you live in a cramped New York City apartment and can only afford one private school tuition, couples are expected to multiply at least a few times.  We are obsessed with children around here and the more, the merrier. We live in a strange culture where people actually plan for births of multiples, celebrities adopt babies from multiple countries as if they’re souvenirs, sextuplets are celebrated (despite their bickering, self-absorbed, and money-hungry parents), and an uber-religious couple with their 19th child on the way says that the Lord has told them to keep multiplying until it’s no longer possible.  I’m sure if that uterus had any say in the matter, it would’ve called it quits a few kids back. Lastly, let’s not forget about the single mom with 6 kids who then gave birth to octuplets. Crazy, right? Well, crazy makes for good ratings, which is why these stories are even stories at all. We might not be able to give our kids proper attention, nurturing, and guidance, but at least we can make a few bucks off of them!

People don’t have just ONE child in America! Never mind over-population and the strain on environmental and economic resources. We must replicate our DNA over and over again! Plus, doesn’t your child deserve to have a brother or sister…or 10 of them?

I guess it was inevitable but I didn’t expect it to happen so soon. As soon as my kid had his first birthday, people started asking about the next one: so when are you going to make the Monkey into a Big Brother!?! Why is there an assumption that there will be a next one? I understand getting it from the parents who love being grandparents, but getting the Big Question from complete strangers is just strange.

Planning for a second baby is much more difficult than planning for the first baby. You have no idea what you’re getting into before you get pregnant the first time. After that, not only do you know better, but you have another child to think about. To be honest, I would be just fine with my one little Monkey. He is just shy of two years old and I am simply not willing to give up the attention and time I devote to him. Until the little guy can speak coherently, is out of diapers, and is in preschool, I’m not even going to think about it. If I choose to have another baby, I’ll never regret it. But I will regret not being able to devote as much time as possible with the Monkey before another child takes so much of that attention away.