….because I don’t want to go through all of *this* again?
I watch my friends who have kids the same age as mine, desperately happy that they’re on their second babies. Happily pregnant with another future shitting-crying-hungry baby. Happily rubbing their evergrowing bellies and discussing formulas and breast feeding and pregnancy pillows. It makes me shudder.
I can think of nothing worse, right now, than having another baby. Nothing worse than going through another four and a half months of puking. Forty weeks of feeling bloated, uncomfortable and short of breath. Nothing worse than having ANOTHER person need me. Need me constantly. I can’t picture how I would manage a newborn, a toddler and a full-grown man.
I can’t picture how there would be enough love inside my heart for another baby. Everything I have goes to my Kid and his father. All of it. Can there be any more left over after that?
I don’t feel I’ve done a good enough job being a mother to my son, to justify doing it a second time. If I’m not doing it right with just one, how will I feel when there are two small things that call me mommy?
Is there something wrong with me that I really, really, really don’t want to do this all over again?
I’m perfectly happy with what I have – why would I want to change it?