We are expecting our third! (And, Andy says, our last.)
It took a little convincing to get Andy on board for number three. I said that I didn’t know Annabelle was going to be our last one, so I wasn’t ready. He said he thought it was pretty clear, since we already have a boy and a girl. There was also that time when I was in the throes of labor with Annabelle, crawling on the floor in agony, when I may possibly have said, “I am NEVER. DOING. THIS. AGAIN”—or some other totally ambiguous statement that Andy probably misinterpreted.
For two years I thought about having another, and although Andy started to waver, his uncertainty made me less certain. Part of me wanted to just be done and enjoy what we have. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it! I had constant conversations with myself about the pros and cons of a third. Usually I’d finish by concluding it made sense to stop with two. Good. Decision made. But then two minutes later, I’d think, “What should we name our new baby?” So in the end we had to have a third so that I could stop being a crazy person and could actually think and talk about other things. And it’s worked. I bring up much more sensible topics now, like which Netflix romantic comedy we should watch tonight—A Christmas Prince or Love Actually?
The truth is that I need another baby because my situation was getting desperate. Annabelle is starting kindergarten next year, and with both kids in school, things will be expected of me. What if I start having to do the Costco runs? I really, really don’t like doing the Costco shop. But, see, now I won’t have to. I hate to brag, but did I problem solve that or what? And in five years, when this little Costco predicament sneaks up again, I’ve already got a solution.
Like with my other two pregnancies, I am so sick. Princess Kate was pregnant at the same time I was expecting Annabelle, and we are pregnancies buddies again. Actually, she is not my buddy because I am irrationally jealous of her. A friend told me that Kate was too sick to take her son to his first day of preschool, so she had to watch it on TV from her bed. Isn’t that the saddest story? Ahem, guess who didn’t have anyone to take her kid to her first day of preschool? Guess who drove her there and pulled over two or three times to throw up along the way? Guess who waited on the floor for twenty minutes while the other parents lined up to fill out the forms because I couldn’t stand in line but instead gagged into a cup and waited until they were done? Yeah. I kind of hate Princess Kate.
At my worst in this pregnancy, I could not eat or drink for stretches of three days. My mouth was so dry it hurt. I sucked on ice and then spit it out, so I wouldn’t swallow and throw up the water. I felt very sorry for myself, and a little like Gandhi during his hunger strikes. But then I remembered that India is already a free and independent nation. And I felt a little bit less like Gandhi, and a little bit more like someone who was sucking on ice and then spitting it out.
When I tutored, I typically vomited before and after every student and then excessively after the last student left. After a particularly bad session, I told Andy, “I’m still tutoring tomorrow. I am strong, and this will NOT break me.” But then I threw up about five times in the space of ten minutes, and Andy got the laptop and said, “So I’ll email your students and cancel for tomorrow,” and I said, “Yeah.” I’m pretty sure Gandhi never tutored during his hunger strikes anyway. And Princess Kate definitely never did, the wuss.
After weeks of my sitting listlessly on the couch in between vomiting runs, Andy asked, “Why did we do this?!” And I said, “I know! Why didn’t you tell me this was a crazy idea?” He didn’t really say anything after that, I guess because he was silenced by my profound argument.
Despite our long indecision and my sickness, Andy decided he wanted to be a father again, and we’re both excited to raise another. At least, we’ll be happy when I can actually function and get off the couch again. And also after the baby is done ripping and clawing its way out of my body. Maybe also after those long stretches when we are up all hours of the night and walking around like sleep deprived zombies. But after that, what joy! And then Andy and I will both see what was important about this whole adventure, which is that I was right. Oh, and also that we have a lovely family.