Holding Off

I know there’s almost never a ‘right time’ to have a kid. But there are times that are better than others. And now isn’t that time. As I reflect on that negative pregnancy test from a few weeks back, I really feel that I dodged a bullet. Because while I know I would grow to love another child, right now isn’t the right time. What scares me, is will waiting be the right time, either?

If I am being 100% truthful, I only want 1 child. AND I also want a daughter, and a sibling for Potamus. It’s hard to hold those tensions. The more settled in I am lately, the more I realized that some of my angst of dealing with Potamus this summer was the projection and future-focus of the ‘what if’ having a second and how I was sure I wouldn’t be able to to do it. There was the infatuation with babies (certainly hormonal) that I hadn’t exprienced before Potamus was born, and seeing my friends with babies and this thought ‘oh, I want that.’

But do I want that? Or do I want what I once had, when I held this little human I created, who is now growing at such a rapid pace? I don’t know the answers to that, but Boof and I have been in a hard place relationally/emotionally/physically, and as parents. I think independently we do a good job parenting, but together we aren’t where we’d like to be. And I think that my desire to ‘rush to have another’ has been as a desperately perfectionistic attempt to a) bandaid a difficult situation, b) keep up with the joneses, c) give me more ‘ammunition’ when complaining about my identity/work-load balance/etc.

Even admitting all of that on paper is both cathartic and makes me wonder how many people will stop reading because surely I’m the worst woman ever (next to Miley Cyrus, of course 😉 ). It’s hard to admit that I was rushing in to a situation to try and fix an already hard situation, because we all know that’s the dumbest logic ever.

So I decided to make a decision. Instead of continuing to play ‘Russian Baby Roulette,’ by leaving the decision each month up to condoms or chance/fate/God, I am going on birth control. And I’m not going on the pill. I am choosing the IUD without hormones. It’s both an exciting and scary decision to make. Because  I know in my heart it’s the right choice, because it takes some control back on my own body, that feels it’s been subject to every whim and fancy, but it also means a decision has been made. We have decided to not have any more kids. …………….yet.

We will revisit the conversation next year. But even just saying that gets me nervous, because part of holding off means letting go of this ‘dream’ (that I’ve felt very influenced by media/friends/family) of having kids 2ish years apart…3 at most. Because now we’re talking 3.5 years apart at minimum. Probably more like 4.5. And that feels different to me, in providing a ‘sibling relationship’ to Potamus. Feels different adding an infant into a household revolving around schoolish activities. But that’s all getting ahead of myself, because, right now we are done having kids.

I’m looking at it that way because I love having one kid. I really love it. The thought of putting the IUD in has actually let me take exhale, as if I’ve been holding my breath for a really long time. It’s hard to describe, this feeling of contentedness and satisfaction and freedom with a choice. And yet, I’m worried about explaining this decision to others. So many people have opinions and beliefs about waiting for more kids, or what it’d mean to have one kid, but I know what’s right for us. And this is it. For now that is. And that’s what I need to keep in mind.

And, in it’s usual timely fashion, yesterday Offbeat families featured this article entitled 8 ways to help you deal when the time isn’t right to have a baby. I suggest you read it 🙂

How did you decide when/if to have kids (or have more kids)? How did you handle criticism or comments from family/friends? Any experience with the IUD you want to share?

Breastfeeding a Toddler

Potamus is 14 months old, and I have crossed over into the extended breastfeeding camp, surpassing my original 12 month goal. While exhausted some nights, wishing Boof could take over for all of the parenting duties, I am mostly really pleased with still following the baby-led weaning philosophy. While we’ve been weaned during the day for many months now, I have noticed this super flexibility in our breastfeeding relationship that doesn’t feel like the urgent nurse-on-demand offering from when he was small and I was worried about it going okay, and the rigorous every two hours all night nursings that accompanied the back-to-work-forced-day-weaning that happened when he reverse cycled and refused a bottle.

This flexibility has become more of a relaxed state of mind in this stage of the journey. We were day-weaned, which is what I felt comfortable with as a mom of a year-old baby/toddler. Night nursing only would involve the two of us (plus Boof), and nobody would really need to be bothered by the nursing of an older child. It kept mama happy and baby happy. He’s finally learned the art of the sippy cup, but still only drinks water and prefers yogurt over milk.

But there have been some times lately, like with Potamus not feeling well, that I offer the breast to him. It’s after I get home from work, or when he wakes up from a nap, or on my days off, when I am trying to put him down for a nap. And he has even begun to ask for it in his own way (and by ask I mean, just help himself), like when we’re in the shower together. We’re happily playing with the foam bath shapes, sticking them to the wall and he looks over at me, surveys the goods, and then dives in to boobie #1. Squatting like a little frog-man, he fully nurses and then goes back to happily playing with his toys.

What I love is those little snuggle moments. Like after his nap, when he’s rested but still sad to come back to reality from dreamland, and nestles on up to me, tears still in his eyes, and gets a little comfort. Sometimes playing with toys works, sometimes listening to some really bad 90’s music works, and sometimes he just needs a little nursing snack (as we call it), to feel grounded.

We’ve settled into this easy baby-led weaning place, and I love it. My snuggly, wiggly, big baby still needs me, and I am happy to oblige.

mother? mistress?

The sleeping arrangements in our house is becoming an issue, though I’m trying to not give up so quickly on it, as the past has shown, just as I hit my almost breaking point, a shift happens and Potamus makes a leap in abilities and maturity. But the past few weeks have been spent with me dividing my time between our king sized memory foam bed with a down comforter and Potamus’ twin size old bunk-bed mattress with blankets on the floor. On average I’m getting 2-3 in our bed and the rest of the night is spent with Potamus, though he has refused to come back to co-sleeping with us in our bed. I guess he wants me all to himself.

There are nights when I wake up and seriously have no idea where I am. I imagine this might be like celebrities who hotel-hop, and at any moment I’m going to shout “Hello Nebraska!” but haven’t left my humble abode in bedroom Seattle. When I sleep in my bedroom I sleep like a king. When I sleep in Potamus’ room, I sleep like Cinderella, on the floor, though the sleep is deep from exhaustion.

I know it’s a phase. I am committed to not having Potamus simply cry it out in his room alone. I love that he’s going down better for naps, and is even waking up during the day and not screaming for Boof or me, instead, motoring around his room reading books and playing with his toys. This is what I want, the independence and freedom and for him to associate his bedroom with sleep and calm and comfort. But I am tired, and would like to only have to go into his room 1 time a night…and not just 1 time at night and then stay there for 7 hours. 🙂

Daycare/School Day #1

I managed to wait unti 3pm to call and check-in on Potamus at daycare/school. Boof called at 10:30 and gave me a text report that eased my mind enough to get back to my crazy first-day-back-to-work. Why the college decided to have the first day back to work be the first day that students start class, too, is beyond me. But hey, we’re surviving!

When I went to pick him up he seemed surprised, but was happily munching on cheerios in his high chair. He didn’t seem abnormally clingy, and didn’t protest when I nursed him and then popped him in the carseat for our ride home. Once home we played and he seemed SO happy, even “Bollywood” dancing in his bedroom and reading lots of stories. I’m hoping that school is a good place for my extroverted little chap!

And I didn’t cry. I am sure he’ll have cranky sad days, but overall it made me feel so good that he was only sad for about 15 minutes in the morning, and did amazing at naptime (2.5 hours on his mat!). Go Potamus!