It all happened in a dream. A particularly vivid dream. In this dream, I was pregnant again. And we learned that we were having another girl. A fourth. In this dream, we pondered baby names and, get this, I came up with one. A name I've never thought of before, or heard of even.
A name I love. A name I will not share here. Just in case.
I woke up in the morning thinking of this name and smiling. Immediately, I shared the name with Husband. The name of our fourth daughter. He was not amused. There will be no fourth daughter, he reminded me. And I think I made some joke about how it could be a boy after all, but said joke didn't fly either.
You see: Husband is done. No more kiddos as far as he's concerned. And he has made his own jokes on this topic. He says that I will only have a fourth if I find a new husband. I do not like this joke. Because I love the husband I have. I also do not like this joke because, yup, I think I'm open to having a fourth.
Little Girl is getting big. She will be one in March. And I swear there is something biological about a woman starting to crave another baby once her current baby is one. Anyway, I've been thinking about it. I've even been asking the girls about it, whether they'd want another little sis. (Don't you love how I assume it would obviously be a girl?) Met with this question, their eyes, their beautiful blue eyes, grow wide and they express their opinions because, yes, they have them. I think they are on Daddy's side on this one. They say as much. But then Big Girl, my sensitive soul, my thoughtful tot, always punts to me. What do you think, Mom?
What I think is that I am not even convinced I want another. I certainly don't want one now, or soon. If anything, I'd want to wait a bunch of years, enjoy my trio and man and write some good books, and then go back to the land of sleeplessness and diapers. Only then.
What I think is that this is about so much more. I think this is about the idea that I might never be pregnant again, that I might never stay up at night rocking a little bald bundle, that I might never utter these sentences again: She got her first tooth! She said her first word! She had her first bite of food! I think this is about the idea that a part of my life might be over, a door might be closing. I think this about moving on, to admittedly wonderful new things, but still, moving on.
This is hard. For me. I know that I am infinitely blessed. These little girls of mine are my world. Their eyes remind me of goodness, of love, of life. They are happy and healthy little creatures and they are mine, ours. This family? It's my everything.
But is this family complete? Maybe. Probably. I imagine so.
And if that's the case, I will come to be okay with it. Really, I will. I imagine that it's probably a bit hard for all women to admit that their childbearing years are over even if they don't actively want more kids?
And if by some miracle or odd twist of events Husband changes his good mind and we go for it, for a fourth, it's good to know she has a name. A really beautiful one.
A dreamy one.
What do you make of my dream? Do you think that it makes sense that I am saddened at the prospect of not having more kids? Do you feel like your family is complete? Do you think this has anything to do with the fact that Sister C is due with her second babe (a girl!) on Little Girl's birthday in March?