One more already?
We were hardly home from the hospital—our family barely expanded […]
Now my husband wants to have that conversation by the end of this year, preferably around Rowan’s first birthday. That date is nearly seven months away, and it already feels too close. He only wants to start the discussion of when to try for the second, but it still feels too soon for me. The fact that the tables have turned isn’t lost on me; not too long ago I was pushing for the discussion of when to try for our first.
I always dreamed about having a big family, as in 3-4 kids (preferably four to make it even. Yes, I’m that weird. But I have my reasons.) Spacing them somewhat close together, around 2-3 years between each, seemed like a good plan. That was before I actually had any children.
Then Rowan was born. He’s been my dream baby, and I don’t think I could be any more obsessed with him. The thought of having a second child so soon and taking time away from my firstborn makes me sad and reminds me of how fast time is moving. My fears about adding another baby to our family range from the rational (can I handle a baby and a toddler? how long before we need to move to a bigger house?) to the irrational (what if the second one is a colicky baby? will I love the next one as much as I do Rowan?)
Part of me sees why some couples have just one baby and are done. But the other, larger part of me knows that I have plenty of love to share with multiple children and want to give Rowan at least one sibling. I’d be having a second child as much for Rowan as for Arthur and me. Growing up with sisters, I can attest to how much fun it was to have constant playmates. And as an adult, it’s gratifying to have them to lean on and reminisce with.
Rowan will be promoted to big brother at some point. How soon? I don’t know. When our family does expand, the new bundle will be a wonderful addition and be welcomed with so many open arms and eager kisses. Until then, I’m relishing the moments I have with my firstborn.