Having another baby has been out of the question for a while. Where we lived before was too small, we just didn’t have the space for another person. It was never an option and when people would ask when we were going to have another I used to get really annoyed. It was almost like a kick in the stomach each time as it wasn’t our choice not to have another. It just wasn’t possible. We would often be told that “if you really wanted one you would find space” like we hadn’t weighed that option up. There wasn’t any spare. We were already stressed living on top of each other and adding someone else to that mix was going to just make things a million times worse. More arguments when we got in each other’s way in the kitchen or when we couldn’t find what we needed as everything was behind 5 other things. So yes, a baby was always a no go.
I’d happily accepted that it wasn’t an option for us and I didn’t really mind. I love spending time and lavishing attention on Luca. After all, they grow up so fast and it’s been nice to soak it all up and not be distracted by another sibling. I even thought at one point that I’d only ever have one. I mean we are more than happy with our little family unit and didn’t feel like anything was missing.
When we moved I still felt the same. My first thoughts weren’t “oh now we have space for a baby”, even though we have more than enough space for a whole brood. Even when Ant filled the spare bedroom with all Luca’s old baby things. You’d think I’d be stood in that room imagining a new baby cradled in my arms as I rocked it to sleep. I mean look how cute the first one we made was.
But no, my ovaries were very much happy in their redundant state. I genuinely thought that we would probably not have another and maybe we should just put everything in the garage and I could make myself a little office for work or a spare bedroom for guests.
Then we lost Ant’s grandma. We were woken in the early hours by a phone call to tell us she had died and after the initial shock and tears, I lay in bed wide awake. Unable to fall back asleep thinking about the amazing woman we had all just lost and all the things the incredible things about her. It was then that I got this almighty wave of realisation. I was ready.
I was ready.
In those small hours of the morning, laying there in the darkness and snuggled against my grieving husband I knew. It was like a lightbulb moment. I just knew I was ready for another baby.
I didn’t tell Ant for at least a week as I was worried he would think I was being heartless given the circumstances. I was also questioning myself every day.
Was I really ready? Ready for pregnancy again as I really didn’t enjoy it with Luca. Ready for those long sleepless nights again and the unrelenting exhaustion. This time with another child to care for too. Ready to lose the body I know and have grown to quite like again?
Was I 100% sure?
I toyed with the idea for a week, but still, the feeling of readiness sat there with me. So one night, not unlike the night I had the realisation, I told Ant. As I braced myself for him to tell me it wasn’t the right time he instead wrapped me in his arms and told me he was ready too.
We had countless conversations of course. All about if we really were sure. And could we cope with Luca, the dog and a new baby? Could we afford another? All the things you ask yourself when you decide to make that jump. Every time we came back to the same conclusion.
So that’s it. The decision has been made and we are hoping to add another little person to our family. Fingers crossed for sooner rather than later.