I was late.
Eight days worth of late.
Three pregnancy tests peed on kind of late.
And guess what? I'm not pregnant!
I know this because, well, the gears starting creaking and things started, you know, flowing.
But not before David and I had to contemplate what it would mean if I had been pregnant.
We have two healthy, perfect kids (and when I say perfect, I mean in the "all their limbs and organs are functioning normally and they seem reasonably intelligent and well-adjusted" type of way). It is tough enough to manage Sawyer's peanut allergy. I can't imagine dealing with something that affects quality of life every moment.
I have one child out of diapers (the other one will NEVER be out, just to spite me). I removed high chairs, bouncers and other large baby things from my house. I don't worry about toys with small parts becoming lodged in a windpipe anymore.
I don't remember the last time I used a stroller.
Why rock the boat by adding a third?
I'm clutching on to my 30s with my fingernails. Who knows what my eggs are doing, especially after this past Cycle of Craziness. David is in his 40s. We're already old, in parenting terms. I met a woman today who is pregnant with her third - and she's only 28!
There's also the issue of being outnumbered, of not having enough hands to help everybody at once. More snot to wipe. The stomach flu times three. Diapers. Clothes. Toys. Cars. College.
A third would also be at least three years younger than Sage and five younger than Sawyer. Would s/he feel left out, with the first two being so close?
When we thought I might in fact be knocked up, David's attitude was "Bring it. We can have a third, no problem." He was totally up for it.
In a way, it would have been a relief to have an oops. It would take the decision making of should-we-or-shouldn't-we out of our hands. Meant to be, right?
Now we need to, like, make an intelligent, adult decision. Am I done? It seems so...final.
To me, having children is what makes living worthwhile. I can't think of anything more important than bringing a life into the world. Raising kids.
Two is cool. Two is manageable.
Style for your butt - [image: shape of the seat] The hare sat in the chair over there by the pear.
1 day ago