When Angel and I were dating, we talked about how many kids we wanted “some day.” We both said 2, I said “2 but if they are the same sex I would want to discuss having a 3rd.” And it was easy enough. We both agreed: 2, we’ll talk about 3 possibly.
Well, “some day” came, and a second boy joined us. The barrage of questions about more kids were so much easier to manage after I had Lucas because it was easy: “some day.” When I’m standing in line at the grocery store now and someone asks if we’re going to have more kids I find myself saying “ummmm?” I take the stance that when Joshua is about the age that Lucas currently is, it’s going to be the conversation that we always said we would have before this adventure started. I think that Angel is humoring my heart on the matter, but deep (deep) down, I know this is it. I’m the Mom of 2 boys and part of me may always be mourning the loss of the daughter that I never had. The last 6 months I’ve really started coming to terms with the way our “some day” conversation is going to go in a couple of years, and in the process I’ve decided that having the second (last) kid really sucks from a Mom perspective, and here is why:
Joshua started crawling this week, and the next morning woke up with a new tooth. Cool? No. Sure, it’s great to see him grow up and hit these milestones that he’s supposed to (I don’t ever want it to sound like I don’t appreciate having healthy children), but what the hell is going on here? Where is the newborn that I cuddled with in the hospital? Where is the baby that I could set down while I took a shower or took care of his brother? What happened to the midnight feeding between him and I in the quiet house? What the hell just happened? Then it hit me (hard): he’s gone. That baby that I had, twice, I will never have again. I can pack up those baby clothes for our “some day” conversation, but let’s call a duck a duck, cry the tears that I know are coming, and then accept the fact that I will never again have a baby. Every first for him is a last for me and this really sucks. I thought I knew what bittersweet was and then I had Lucas. I thought that then I knew what bittersweet was and then I had our last, and now I’m just watching from the sidelines as our 2 boys hold hands, giggle, and move across the room sharing toys. I’m not the Mom to the baby, I’m the Mom to the boys.