(This post was scheduled for last week but, due to the carrier situation, was delayed. Enjoy!)
I’ve been questioning my reasons for blogging about SIF. In my case, the situation is of my own making. I am not trying to martyr myself by saying, “I did it for my husband but oh, my poor broken heart.” I am not trying to stir up drama by saying, “Yes, I agreed to this but I didn’t really mean it.”
My head understands the reasoning that led us to this decision. Our household budget would be stretched very thin if we were to have another child. Our home and vehicles are not large enough for a family of five (or six, depending on the time of year). Our at-home children are used to being only-children due to our late marriage and their age difference. My husband is in his mid-forties with two teenage sons; his heart and mind are closer to retirement stage than the new parent stage. Our lifestyle allows us to parent our children throughout the year, and provides us with six weeks each summer to enjoy a belated newlywed period.
All of these things continue to hold true. My mind knows that they are valid and important. My heart, however, continues to fluctuate and the “if’s” start rolling in.
IF we didn’t have any debt, we could afford a larger home and car.
IF we had conceived when I first mentioned it, the age difference between the children would not be so large.
IF I had held out longer, R could have changed his mind.
But none of these is concrete. Even without debt, our budget could not support a larger mortgage or second car payment. Even if we had conceived right away, Little K and the baby would still have been born four years apart. Even if I had held out, R made up his mind on this subject eight years before he met me.
There is one if that never comes up: IF I hadn’t married R, I would have another child by now. Before I married R, I didn’t want another child; I wanted it to stay Little K and me forever. Even when I was married to Little K’s father, I didn’t want more children.
The reality is, IF I hadn’t married R, I would be without my great love, and Little K would be without a father (figure) who adores her.
So why am I blogging about it?
The desire for a child isn’t driven by my rational mind but by my emotions, memories, imagination, and hormones.
My emotions tell me that R is a wonderful father and Little K would be an amazing big sister.
My memories tell me that my pregnancy was wonderful and remind me that I did not have the opportunity to raise a child from birth in a healthy marriage.
My imagination shows me a picture of a beautiful baby and a larger family.
And my hormones remind me over and over that this is what my body was made for and I’m not getting any younger and OMG look at that adorable baby SQUEEEEE!
I’ve noticed that, since starting Donating Hope, I’m having more good days than bad. It is such a relief to release these thoughts and feelings. Express, don’t repress, right?
Looks like I’ll be sticking around for a while.