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Baby Love

babyloveLike I don’t already feel like a giant biological clock, I am now getting pressure to reproduce.”By whom?” you ask. (Okay, so maybe you don’t ask but then this will be a very short post.)

My baby wants a baby.

That’s right — E wants to be a big brother. And since he is a seven-year old boy, he ain’t subtle about it either. The common refrain is “I want a brother or sister.” “I know, baby, I know,” I say, “We’ll see.” One time he got pretty darned specific on me and asked for a big sister. I told him that was probably not going to happen since I just did not feel like going into the definition of a blended family for the poor child.

The latest plea was just so sweet, it continues to gnaw away at me. (Because I don’t have enough guilt in my life….) E was describing how he saw a big boy helping his little brother get a drink from a water fountain. “I’d do that, you know, if I had a little brother,” he told me, “Or a little sister. Whichever one you have.” Oh, honey — I can’t even get someone to ask me out on a date. My procreation skills are definitely in a lull right now.

Part of me agrees with E. I want a baby. I see those little bundles and I just melt. Even though I know I enjoyed his babyhood immensely, I feel as though I was so sleep-deprived that I didn’t appreciate that time as much as I should have. Would I have valued those moments more if I knew that all his firsts might be lasts for me? I watch the movies of when he was a toddler and I want to cry. It certainly doesn’t help that my ex features prominently in those films. This is a wonderful example: E and I were watching a movie together. “Whose hand is that?” he asked. “Your dad’s.” “Are you sure? It has a ring on it.” Lovely and observant of him, don’t you think?

At any rate, a baby is not happening anytime soon. Should I adopt? I’ve considered it. I also just turned the big 4-0 (gasp!) so I know that if a baby is going to happen biologically, it should probably sooner rather than later (guess it’s time to re-open that internet dating profile). I had a miscarriage about a year and a half before my ex and I separated, and I still contemplate that I could have been the mom of two. Then again, I most likely would have been a single mom of two, and being a single mom of one is hard enough. But part of me misses what could have been — another little one to snuggle with at night, someone for E to play with on rainy days when we don’t leave the house…a family of three instead of two.

I love E. He is an amazing and wonderful child. I know that he would be a great big brother. But I also know that he and I will be okay in our two-person household. “The most important thing in the world is you and me,” he reminds me once in a while. (Granted, it’s usually when I get upset about the living room being a mess, but you have to admire his powers of persuasion.)

And he’s right. He usually is. We’ll be okay. Our family of two is fine. In the meantime, however, he can keep his hopes up…and I’ll keep my hand on the biological clock’s snooze button.

Author: Stacey Linden

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