. . . we're done. I MAY have intimated in a previous post that I wanted to be pregnant again. So, actually, no. In romantic notions, maybe. But then there's reality: a new car for 3 carseats; college for 3 children; lack of bedroom space; lack of ENERGY; single riders and being outnumbered. Nope. Oh yeah, and the whole nine-months-of-paralyzing-anxiety-about-pregnancy thing. That nearly killed me once. I've learned my lesson.
I wonder if all mothers feel this way when they realize they're done having babies. That wistful, maybe-one-more-oh-hell-no feeling. I don't know. Is it more acute in the babyloss mamas? Because there were three babies. And now there ARE two. But there's this missing-tooth feeling; something that should be there inexplicably is not. And that someTHING is actually someONE.
I need to have a ready answer for the inevitable, "Think you'll go for a girl?!" question. Because there WAS a girl. She was here. It's not like I'm feeling wishful for some possible girl; I'm feeling sad and lonesome for my once-upon-a-time girl. So maybe all I need to answer is, "no."
I've been listening to The Black Keys lately. This song really resonates with me, for obvious reasons. It's about one of the guy's brother-in-law who died as a child from cancer. I hope one my boys always remember their unknown sister.