I would sit and page through teen clothing catalogs, pretending that my favorite three models were my daughters. Then I’d choose my two sons from an issue of Seventeen or YM, and my husband from People or Vanity Fair. Brad Pitt, George Clooney, the usual. My impossibly beautiful family of seven, ahh it will be perfect. RELATED: Why I Plan To Have A Kid — Even Though I Don’t Want One Within a few years once reality set in (partially), I thought I would have four children. That seemed more manageable. As I got even older and started understanding how much things really cost, and how much-individualized attention kids need, I settled on the idea of having three babies. One more than we had in our family, just to make things interesting. Fortunately, the man I married (neither Brad nor George, in case you hadn’t guessed), also agreed that three would be a good number. My husband had just one brother and admits that he always would have liked another sibling. A family of five, ahh it will be perfect. Conceiving our first child wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. Several long months of “trying” followed by an early miscarriage certainly left me wondering if I was up to attempting this whole baby-making business two more times. But a successful pregnancy, followed by a new baby left little time for thoughts about another. RELATED: Moms: Please Be Quiet About Having Kids Being The Best Thing Ever Several months into motherhood, just as things finally start to settle down, you realize that your baby is in fact, no longer a baby. All of a sudden they are crawling, getting into trouble and pulling themselves up to stand. That’s the point where you turn to your partner and ask “So, are you ready for another?” The response I received from the man who was so interested in having three children once upon a time, was shocking: “I will have another baby, but I’m fine with just her.” I’m not going to lie. That hurt. What did he mean? What happened to three? Did he read What’s the Big Effing Deal About Having A Second Baby? Darn that Jezebel! Sure our daughter has been a handful, to say the least. Unlike a good majority of babies (or at least the ones that are thrown in our faces at every restaurant, mall, and public venue) she has never been particularly fond of the following important baby things: car seats, sleep, cribs, bottles, solid food, bouncy seats, sleep, highchairs, anything but breastmilk, and oh, sleep. I can joke about this, because 13 months in, I still want to keep her around. I love her to pieces and I’ve adjusted to running on no sleep, singing 476 renditions of the ABCs while driving, and wearing tops with easy access to my boobs. Has it really been that tough for him? I mean, he’s been sleeping through the night all the while. RELATED: Study Shows That Those Who Grow Up With A Sister Are Happier Once I got over the initial shock, I thought about my family of five and admitted to myself that I wouldn’t mind if that shrunk down yet again. Family of four, ahh it will be perfect…I think? Yes, the thought of two more newborn stages seems kind of insane, but I’d like to take it one more newborn stage at a time. Can I handle another baby? Absolutely. Even when I think I can’t. I clearly never imagined having just one child. Given the struggles it took to make our first, I will be incredibly grateful whenever we are presented with another set of pink lines My husband is head over heels for our sweet girl. He is an incredibly loving father. I think it has just been a lot more work than he imagined. And not just for him. He has seen the toll that my style of parenting takes on me day after day and wonders if starting all over again will be worth the extra adorableness babies bring with them. I definitely want my daughter to have a sibling. I want another teeny, tiny baby in my arms. I want another chance at getting that darn bottle thing to work! In fact, I am so sure about having another baby, that in order to present my argument to my husband I will take a tip from my headstrong toddler. I’ll arch my back, screech, and refuse to settle down until he hugs me tight, carries me to bed, and agrees to get started on another. RELATED: I’m Not Selfish For Having An Only Child (So Mind Your Own Business) Brooke Dowd Sacco is a freelance writer and blog editor. Editor’s Note: This article was originally published in 2012.
