At the gym locker room the other day I saw a teeny black haired woman in an even teenier black bikini rocking the roundest and prettiest baby bump I've ever seen in real life. And you know what? I wasn't jealous. I didn't feel the little sting that usually comes with realizing my baby bumps (not to be confused with milkshake hips) are over with forever.
Although I've only really confessed this to one or two friends, I am sad that we cannot have more children (We made it a permanent decision over a year ago). Don't get me wrong, I love the two we already have beyond measure and all that jazz but there's something very, I don't really know what to call it other than achy, about knowing I'll never again be able to see my belly grow with another little baby feasting on my every cell nestled inside for 9 months.
This feeling of regret and longing for another one completely blind sided me after Abby was weened. I wasn't even thinking of another baby until mine was that much closer to not being one. I'm sure this is exactly when other moms get the baby itch too and go for it again. Secretly to the outside world, I was left wishing and mourning the fact that we couldn't go for it again no matter what I wanted. We had already made that decision and my job was to accept it as fact.
Up until a couple of days ago I wasn't sure I could accept it as fact. I even approached my husband about a reversal and his reply iterated his clarity and commitment beyond any reasonable doubt. "You're %*&$ psychotic," were I believe his exact words.
Somehow I knew he was right but it didn't change the big hole I felt lingering every time I packed away Abby's outgrown onesies for donation. I couldn't escape the feeling that I was also packing up the happiest time of my life just to drive it to a dusty warehouse where someone may or may not buy it for 25 cents.
Then I saw her. God bless you, little Demi Moore of the gym. Just when I least expected it, you showed me that I have wholly accepted my fate as a mother of two and two only. I saw you heading for the showers, knees buckled, feet swollen and didn't yearn for even one second of your life. In that instant, I knew that I've had my time. Both pregnancies were marathons of their own variety and I'm fortunate to be on the other side of them. Even if it was possible, I probably shouldn't have wished for a third one to finish me off. Plus, a woman like me who is blessed with two incredibly colorful personalities as Grayson and Abby has no business ever wanting for more. It's clear to me now that it was just a phase I needed to pass through and now, with clarity and un-psychotic certainty, I too can say that I'm over it.