I Didn’t Realize I Wanted Another Baby Until We Had a Pregnancy Scare

First came love.

Then came marriage.

Then came baby in the baby carriage.

And another…

We did the rhyme. We even did it in order. We had a boy and a girl and, while we never had an actual discussion about how many kids we planned to have, somehow we both just seemed to know that we were done. Our family was complete.

Aside from those pangs of sadness you get deep down in your ovaries when you pack up the infant clothes or look at newborn hospital photos from years ago, I never had a moment of reconsideration or wondering if I wanted another baby. I loved my family of four. I didn’t feel like anything was missing.

And then one hot and steamy quarantine night, my hubby and I got too caught up in the heat of the moment to remember that we hadn’t actually done anything permanent about our unofficial “no more babies” decision. Thanks to the coronavirus, I had skipped my annual appointment with the ob-gyn and hadn’t gotten a refill on my birth control or made it to the store for some good old-fashioned condoms, yet that didn’t stop us. In the moment, we didn’t care about any risks. Heck, we’re a married couple with kids! Whatever happens happens, right?

But immediately after, I began to panic

“What were we thinking?”

“We know how babies get made!”

“I’m 37 years old. I have no business accidentally getting knocked up!”

“We can’t afford another kid.”

“We’ll have to move!”

*“OMG.” *

I told no one of my concerns and sinking suspicion. I even kept quiet to my husband who, I’m sure, hadn’t given our night of carelessness a second thought.

As the days went on, I had this knowing and gnawing feeling in the pit of my uterus. I found myself feeling uncharacteristically tired. A coffee aversion has always been my first pregnancy “tell”. Was it just me or was my Americano not hitting the spot as lately?

The suspicion turned to assurance that I was, in fact, going to have a surprise quarantine baby that would shock our friends and family. My mind began to slowly accept this and made a surprisingly quick turn from horror at the possibility to a tinge of excitement.

“Hmmm…I’ll be due in February, same as my bestie!”

“I think I want to keep the gender a surprise. After all, we have one of each already, and there's nothing like finishing a surprise pregnancy with a surprise at birth!”

“I wonder if my hubs has come around to the name Theo yet? He vetoed it last time around, but I feel like he was warming up to it at the end.”

All of this inner dialogue had me walking around in the clouds with that knowing feeling of a woman who is aware of something wonderful that she has not yet shared with the world.

For now, this special secret was just mine

The two-week wait didn’t feel so much like the torture I recalled in the past. It was more a sacred time until I found out the inevitable.

The ETA for my period came and went, which only added to my certainty that I was soon going to have to catch my husband up to our new reality. One day late. Two days late.

And then day three, Aunt Flo made her deceptively late arrival.

Why did I feel like I’d lost something? This wasn’t like all those months of trying to conceive and the emotions I felt when I first saw red after yet another month of no baby.

We weren’t trying to have a baby

We didn’t want a baby.

Did we?

Just a couple weeks prior and I would have had no doubt in my mind of the answer to that question. But now? Now I’m just not so sure. I’m still so happy with our family of four. I still don’t feel like anything is missing.

So, do I want another baby?

Maybe.

But also, maybe not.

I suppose we shall have to wait and see.