In the wake of my cousin losing her triplets, I feel like the only things I should feel are blessed and thankful and gracious. I have been bestowed with two wonderful gifts. In them, I am richer than I could ever deserve to be.
And yet....my heart hurts. I'm ready for another baby. Not just ready, but insanely consumed by the thought. While my house is full of love, I can't shake the feeling that there is someone missing. I yearn for the baby-to-be that I do not even know. There is a baby just waiting for us to welcome him/her. I feel sad for that baby. I cry for that baby.
The problem is...my husband does not agree. When I ask for another baby, he says, "No way. We already have too many." I began asking him casually about nine months ago. I didn't want another baby right then, but I wanted to know that baby no. 3 was a possibility. Each time, he flat out said "no." As Ryan is getting older, my desire is becoming more desperate. I've been asking more frequently. I still get the same response. "No. End of discussion."
Because he wants what is already the status quo, he automatically gets his way. He doesn't have to engage in a discussion. He doesn't have to talk it through with me. He automatically gets what he wants. I can't help but feel marginalized. I so desperately want to pound my fists, stomp my feet and scream, "It isn't FAIR!"
This week, I attended a party thrown by a long-time friend. It was populated by moms. Moms with babies. There were three babies in attendance. My friend, herself, is pregnant with her second. I held and loved the heck out of those babies. There was one precious 8 week old girl- the most gorgeous baby girl I had ever seen. I held her for hours. I smelled her sweet hair, grasped her tiny fingers, and rocked her gently as she snoozed in my arms. I came home and cried. A lot.
In fact, there has been a lot of crying this week. There have been more than a couple pregnancy announcements and baby births lately. I try so hard to be happy for the expectant couples. But all I can think about are my own empty arms. My own aching heart. It's selfish and immature. And just knowing that I SHOULD be overjoyed by the two babies I already have, my deep sadness is only compounded by guilt. I don't know what I'm going to do, I feel so helpless and alone. But I really do need to find a way to cope with hearing the word baby without wanting to run out of the room in tears.