Is It Any Wonder?

There's a weird thing that happens after you have a baby...scratch that. There's a shit tonne of weird things that happen after you have a baby spanning the psychological, physical, spiritual and emotional, but there's one I'm thinking about today. And that is, as soon as you have birthed a child, people, both people you know and utter strangers, begin to ask you about if/when you'll have another. And I mean, literally right away. Within days, if not hours of delivering your baby.

Now, things were so weird after my first in general I kinda didn't pay much attention to this phenomenon. I chalked it up to 'conversations you have as a parent' that while I didn't especially yearn to engage with - like what colour my baby's poo was and whether I suffered from piles - I found myself having. But after having Betts and finding it happening again, I began to think a bit more about it...

Would I have another child? Could I have another child? Should I have another child?

In short, probably not for a whole truck load of reasons but at least 80% being one or another of version of 'I am pretty darn sure that way (for me) mental breakdown lies'.

I tend not to give such a candid answer generally, but I have said to a few strangers and semi strangers, that I'm done. And, after I'd 'successfully' organised myself with a pigeon pair, there were nods and comments that indicated agreement with my decision that two was enough. Because given I had a boy and a girl, why would I have more?

The thing is, while after the utter fucking shock that was having Abe, I was quite happy to say never again or simply shake my head because I was too sleep deprived and shell shocked to even entertain the idea of more for a very very long time, it's something post Bette I've thought a lot more about. Something that every time I am asked puts me back in a spin because even though I'm sure, I'm kinda not. I mean, what if I'm wrong?

Deep down I know the answer is no more. Not even that deep down, let's be honest. Without an utter personality overhaul or a nanny, I seriously could not deal with three. If you've ever seen me in Coles with my two, you might conclude that I can't really deal with two.

But, with the acknowledgement that Bette is the finale, comes a lot of lasts. A lot of goodbyes. This will be the last time I'll go through childbirth or breastfeed. The last time I'll get to watch a baby discover bubbles for the first time or that the ball is actually still there under the scarf. The last time I'll bash a kid's head on a doorframe or clip their belly into the capsule belt.

Because soon, so soon, they'll be big. They'll be walking and talking and at school and out of nappies. They'll not require the removal of squeezie yoghurt tops immediately after opening and four pairs of spare pants in my handbag. And sure, I'll be able to pee alone and go back to being responsible for wiping only my own arse, but, there's a lot I know I'll miss too.

Of course, I don't say any of this when I'm asked, because frankly, it's none of anyone's business. It's mine to tell as and where I want to, and Ethel at the coffee shop isn't the place for me. But she makes me think about it. She makes me wonder about it.

She makes me wonder about other stuff too.

I wonder why she cares. I wonder if she thinks I'll really tell her. I wonder if she asks everyone and if for some, unable to have more, her question rips them apart.

I wonder why she thinks you'd only have a third if you were trying to get a child of a different gender to what you'd already been blessed with. Why she, why our society, sees boys and girls as so different. When, whether, it will ever stop and they'll all just be children and we'll all just be people.

I wonder how anyone could imagine that everyone perfectly plans the time frame between children. I wonder if she believes that to conceive when you want to and carry that child to term as planned is a given. I wonder if she knows that she surely does know someone, many someones, who lost a baby before it was even here.

My second child has been so much easier than the first. In terms of the baby stuff anyway. Given there are two it's been a lot harder overall. But Betts as a baby was a breeze. She's a bit of a twat just now as a toddler, but even within that she's pretty bloody cute as she terrorises me too. So I watch it passing me by and babyhood slipping away, I sometimes want to grab onto it with both hands and make it stay. But, since I can't, I wonder about doing it again...just one more time.

#Newborn #baby #Kids #Society #health #Birth #Lifestyle