It didn’t take long after Max was born to hear the follow up question, “do you think you’ll have another one?” It’s a strange question. Some people get upset being asked so soon after having their first (I’ve read stories of women being asked this mere hours after delivering their first child!)
I don’t mind it because I think we ask questions like this because we’re curious, nosey human creatures. The success of homosapians has depended on our ability to gossip and chat with and about each other, and fire, and regenerative farming, and a few other things, like science etc.
I always knew that if Steve and I were having at least one baby, we’d be having more. Why? Because I loved having sisters, and Steve also loves having sisters. I’m a middle child of three. Steve is the second of four --or as he likes to say, upper middle class. We’re pretty close with our siblings and enjoy those relationships and connections.
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| I'm on the right. |
When I finally decided I wanted to and was “ready” to have a kid, I also knew then that I would want the next one pretty soon after. I was 18 months younger than my older sister, Sally, and we grew up with so many opportunities to do things together.
While Mom cooked dinner, Sally fed me frozen peas off the floor. As a toddler, I began talking quickly, while Sally’s speech was sometimes unintelligible. I would interpret for my parents: “She said she wants juice!” The same day Sally got the training wheels off her first bike, I demanded mine be removed. As tots, we both had bright blonde hair and I slowly started to outgrow Sally, for a few years we looked like twins. Especially when dressed in the matching outfits Grandma would send.
In school, I was only a year behind Sally and we got to participate in a lot of things together, like taking part in school plays or going on a school skiing trip to New Hampshire (very strange we went all the way to the USA for a ski trip from southern England!). In our late teens Sal and I would join forces to throw a party while mom and dad were away, bringing together our groups of friends and terrible cheap alcohol.
On the other hand, Izy was 3 years younger than me. She was often left out of the fun Sal and I were able to have together. It wasn’t anyone’s fault - just the opportunities that are age based. I’d say Izy was subject to a little more sibling-torture. I once warned her that earwigs crawl inside your ear and eat your brains. She still insists I was terrorizing her, I insist I was merely passing on information that an older kid had told me.
When we were all together, on family vacations or just at home, the three of us had amazing times using our imaginations to create friends, secret worlds, and make up songs. One of our best songs included the lyrics “I’m gonna get you boy (yeah yeah), I’m gonna kill you boy (yeah yeah)”... I guess we were young violent feminists.
Having siblings helps you get through so much in life. Protecting each other against bullies. I remember I yelled at an older girl in the playground when I couldn’t have been more than 7 or 8 because she picked on Sally for being short. I got slapped. But it was worth it. And Sal stood by me so many times, especially threatening my boyfriends that she’d mess them up if they ever hurt me. And Izy is always there for me with love and encouragement when I need it.
As I’ve shared before, It was heartbreaking not to be able to share my first moments as a mom with them both when Max was born. They have both given me so much advice and insight into parenting, and are the first people I can reach out to when I feel lost.
The love, connection and memories I have with my own siblings helped me make my decision that I wanted more than one kid and I wanted them close in age.
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| Much longer than 7 years ago now... |
There’s never a perfect time
When Max turned one, Steve and I started the conversation about having another child. We weren’t sure the timing was quite right logistically, but we were also thinking ahead - where do we want to be in 5 years? Do we want to spend 5 years with Max on nap schedules, being pretty dependant and then do it all again for another 5 years with baby #2? Or, do we want to try and get all this over with in 7 years by having the next baby sooner?
I convinced Steve we should aim for a 2 year age gap. But we had plans to go to Hawaii for our November wedding anniversary so we decided to put off trying until after that trip. The two main reasons being, 1. You can’t scuba dive while pregnant and 2. I probably wouldn’t enjoy being either in the first trimester, or heavily pregnant while on vacation.
If you have read this blog from the beginning, you’ll know that our experience trying to conceive our first baby was stressful, emotionally exhausting, and longer than I had wanted it to be! I expected a similar experience this time around. Oh, how wrong I was...
A few months after we’d discussed putting it off for a while, my period was late. But this was normal for me. My cycles are long and irregular. I wasn’t experiencing any unusual symptoms - like sore breasts or nausea. But I was not on birth control, and while I do track my cycle and pay close attention to my ovulation window, I knew it's not always predictable. So, a week later I decided just to check with an old expired pregnancy test I still had in the bathroom.
I peed on the stick, and jumped in the shower. Figuring it would be ready when I got out. I actually almost forgot about it and left the bathroom, which wouldn’t have been great since we share our bathroom with a roommate!
I picked up the test to read the result. Positive.
What the ****?!
I couldn’t believe it! Whaaaat?
I was flabbergasted that this pregnancy came without any effort, without the months of trying and anxiously waiting, and testing and disappointment and… all of that.
I honestly was a little disappointed in myself. I had all these intentions about talking to our roommates about possible timing of a new baby to give them a heads up well in advance. The first time, some of them felt like 8 months warning wasn’t enough and it was stress I didn’t need in the first trimester. I had wanted to do better this time around.
I was also mad that I just ruined my Hawaii vacation. URGH. I had also been trying to use a Scuba voucher my in-laws got me for Christmas. No more scuba for Mimi. Boo!
Those were my initial reactions, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. First time, yes I was elated. But this time I had a lot of mixed emotions. You know what though? The big lesson I’ve learned through both of my pregnancies - I’m not in control. Nope.
I was nervous about telling Steve because he was having a really tough day at work. It’s hard to keep a secret like that, so I called my bestie Catherine instead! We made jokes about funny ways I could tell Steve, and that made me feel better.
Right before bed, Steve was telling me that his day at work had turned out better than expected and he felt good. Knowing he was feeling better, I blurted it out: “I’m pregnant”. I had expected him to be disappointed too. But he wasn’t at all. He instantly smiled. “What?! That’s so exciting!” he said.
I confessed how I had such mixed feelings about it because of the timing. He reminded me, there’s never a perfect time. Steve, such a gem, saying the right things at the right time.
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| Early pregnancy, switching wine for sparkling water with a dash of Prism Powder |
Baby Fever
The following week we were in New York visiting Steve’s family. His sister Amy was about 5 months pregnant, and we wondered whether it was too early to share our news with the family. I was only 7 weeks at the time. But when we got there, another of Steve’s sisters, Barbara, told us that she was pregnant too! She was about a month and a half further along than me.
When we told Steve’s parents his Dad was almost speechless, “you mean I have three pregnant daughters?! I think I need to sit down.”
Back in California, after our first doctor’s appointment confirming the baby was there and has a heartbeat, we told the roommates. They were all excited for us, absolutely no stress or tension this time around.
And then we had to tell Max. And he didn’t understand at all. Obviously. But now, he’s 19 months old and he’s picking up on more and more. He knows the word brother. We have a little baby doll that my parents brought over for him from England. One day I was telling him I had a baby brother in my belly, and he walked away over to his toys and picked up the doll. “Baby brother,” he said proudly.
Side Note
Oh yea, spoiler alert... we know we’re having another male child. As a geriatric mother (more on that later) I had a special blood test that detects and tests the baby’s DNA that is flowing around my body. You can ask them not to reveal the baby’s sex chromosones, but Steve wanted to know.
When I got the result by email, I texted him:
“Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
It’s male chromosomes
For baby #2
Oh and more importantly, low risk for any of the chromosomal abnormalities.”
Back to Max
Sometimes he points to his belly and Steve’s belly saying “brother”, so he’s not exactly on point, but we’ll get there. We also have a few books about becoming an older brother and we read those often. I’m hoping by the time February comes around, he’ll understand a little more about what’s happening.
This baby’s due date is February 18, one month before Max’s 2nd birthday. I guess I got that two year gap I wanted!
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| Who wouldn't want a second after a baby like Max?! |
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