I've been kicking myself for the last few months. See it's like this: H and I had been talking about having another baby. All of our friends are trying, have recently been, or are preggo. H was a little hesitant, he's fine with our two. We have a boy and a girl. But I have always wanted more than two kids. In fact I would be happy with two more. So last fall H finally said "yes, let's have one more. But- you need to get knocked up NOW." So I made my appointment to have my IUD taken out.
And then I chickened out. I rashly decided that it was not the "right time."
As someone who rarely makes gets to implement plans, pregnancy is where I have gotten lucky. J was planned and was perfectly timed to arrive in the summer. My OB always teased me "You teachers always have to have things planned perfectly!" My problem was that "NOW" was November. This didn't work for my schedule. I had major issues with the idea of taking off the first few months of school for maternity leave. It seriously freaked me out to think of all the backtracking I would possibly have to do by turning over my classroom for a few months.
Shortly after, H changed is his mind and said he was done with changing diapers. I fought the good battle for a few months, but recently have begun praying for acceptance that I will not have any more kids.
It sucks. I'm bitter. And then I get mad at myself for being bitter when I know I have friends who are struggling with infertility. Here I sit with two beautiful, if not slightly ornery, kids and I'm mad that I can't have any more. I know it's not the same as what my friends are going through. But I'm still sad and bitter. Oh wait, I think I said that already... still haven't come to grips with the whole acceptance thing.
I keep praying for my friends who will be great parents. I pray thankfully for my two darling monsters. And I pray that someday H will change his mi- I mean, I will come to accept the size of my family.