So, we're getting rid of baby things left and right. Because, let's face it, you can only walk by an empty nursery forty times a day for so long before you start to feel like one of those women in the lifetime movies who end up going crazy and cutting a baby out of someone...
And it's funny, because even though I've never set up a rigid, specific plan for my life, I certainly never imagined being the parent to an only child.
This is probably more information than you need or want, but since the miscarriage last spring, we haven't even been trying for a second child. And, it's not like we're running off to have any permanent "procedures", if you know what I mean.
It's just...complicated. And there are so many variables! I'm beginning to think that the smartest thing to do when having more than one child is just to keep having them before you can stop to think about it. Because once you stop to really think about it, you start thinking things like, "this whole him dressing himself and getting his own breakfast thing sure is nice..." and that leads to fantasies of never having to change a diaper again, and actually sitting down and eating for longer than 10 minutes...you know, crazy things like that.
Not to make it sound like it's just my decision or anything. I mean, Sean would already have two or three kids if it was just up to him, but that's because he's never been in active labor, among other things. So we are handling this like pretty much every other decision we can't finalize...which is, let's just see what happens if we just ignore it.
So little by little the baby things are disappearing. I've totally given up on gaining that weight I was supposed to gain in order to prepare for possibly having hyperemesis gravadarium again (good times), and I'm starting to wonder if maybe, just maybe, everything will end up exactly how it was meant to, without planning it down to the second.
Or maybe the world will end in 2012. Problem solved.
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