Charlotte came home today from school with a picture of “MY FAMILY”. It included the regular subjects, but added were “Laura”? and “ISA”? and “AVA”. Ava, the baby sister she wants. Funny things about this drawing were and are that she intensely dislikes the sounds of crying children, ESPECIALLY babies. She isn’t fond of sharing, and is certainly queen of this only child castle.
The thing that OOOFffed me in the heart, was that, she does probably want a sibling. I baby girl to play with and dress up probably sounds way better than putting one of the cats in a dolly’s dress. I am sure she can not given true thought to the consequences this would bear, it was sweet. Bitter sweet.
There are those people who think even one child is too many, lots of us breed too much. Two children is irresponsible and more is nutso. There are faiths and just regular old kid loving people who think the more the merrier, or stop at a certain number. I knew we would only have one while when I was pregnant with Charlotte. At seven month along I wanted to kill myself. I couldn’t take my regular psychotropic drugs and wasn’t on any. The suicidal ideation seem to outweigh any other risks at 7 months and I took a low dose antidepressant, until more than a year after Charlotte was born. I knew I could not handle the mental or physical challenge of gestating again, let alone being crazy and pregnant.
Charlotte has not asked why we can’t have another baby, because these reasons are lengthy and difficult to explain to a kid without a language delay
1) crazy. I am on more medication than ever, and stopping it to get pregnant it not an option
2) diabetic. I had a perfect diabetic pregnancy, testing my sugars, took my insulin, ate like an angel, but having a lovely fetus in your body is still a parasite and I still suffered from some milk kidney and insulin production damage. Oh, I was diabetic before I got pregnant
3) child, I am 40. I do not want to do this at my age for so many reasons. Health, stamina, age, preference.
4) Ill conceived. We needed more than a year of assisted fertility to make you. Who knows what, if any, eggs lie beneath. And Fertility treatments blow.
5) I couldn’t be a good mom to two children, even two girls, which if you asked me about at 25 I would have shouted YELL YA! about. I know my limits, physically, mentally. I may be in a healthy enough to be a good mom and good wife with two kids when I am 50. I am working on all of that better person stuff.
6) I have the love to give, but not enough of the other important shit. I know that one child is the right choice for us as a family. Also, I am 40.
I wanted a sibling when I was little as well. I mean I had a older brother, but he was mean and wanted nothing to do with me and might as well have been raised by wolves, seriously. I wanted a sister. I wanted an older sister, a younger one would have done. I wanted an ally. I was lucky that my mother was the eldest of 15 kids and I had Aunties around that were a pretty close second to having older sisters. I figured out that when Aunty was on the couch and belt buckles were heard (the 70s people), that they were probably doing dirty things that God would not approve of (Catholic). I learned to sew, I was exposed to my first computer and played text based adventure games, I drank beer a little too young, I was a bridesmaid. Having Aunties was awesome. I am sorry I can’t give you that in the same way either.
Lord knows that Charlotte isn’t aware of all the other problems she is facing right now and baby Ava is super not important, trust me. My heart aches for her, for me, for Mark. He wanted a team, at least Basketball. Unfortunately Mark has no uterus. Or perhaps, fortunately. I just feel a little sad and wistful, for it seems like another thing I cannot do for my family, my six year old baby. I think I am ok, I think you will be too my baby.
