Baby Morning Confessions

Confession: I am in baby morning.

I don’t know how this has happened. I have a newborn right here snoring by my side. He is perfect. He was named our last (biological) child. But is he? I can’t be sure. My hormones are enraged and trying to find a balance. This alone leaves me teetering back-and-forth as to what is in store for the growth of our family. All I can say, I am in baby morning.

I am a personality that on day three of a 12 day vacation will be counting down the days until we are back home. I already plan for the end vs the beginning. I have a hard time sitting in my space enjoying the present time. I am rushing to get to the end. I meet the end and find nothing but my own disappointment that I greeted it so openly and prematurely. I do this with my son’s too. I look ahead and see that Ashton (even at two months) is no longer a baby. Insane, indeed! He is just beginning to out grown NB clothing, so we may as well book his first birthday party- right? I have never claimed to be rational.

Baby morning runs deep. It catches my breath. I too am caught by surprise by this bug. I simply cannot shake it. Are we really ready to say good-bye to this stage of life? I was gung-ho adios baby making days 6 weeks ago. Now, I am questioning the permanency of this decision. Does Adam really go in for his procedure in June? Are we really calling it quits? If the pill fails us would we survive one of life’s greatest surprises (again!)? I don’t have the answer. To think I may never hold a 9lb baby against my chest as I enjoy the silence only midnight brings is both chilling and exciting. I do the math… I will be how old when Kade graduates high school? I will be HOW OLD if I give birth a third time? It is startling. The math alone should not have me think twice having me load Adam into the car for the old snippety-snip.

Baby morning is a serious condition. It makes me feel crazy. One minute I can’t wait to outgrow the infant stage and the very next moment I yearn to repeat what has just lapsed. Some may call this postpartum (which I will admit has its similarities). In making decisions I am thoughtful. I look at all the angles. I seek and think. And at the end of the day I am still morning a loss by a choice that hasn’t even been made.
The more Adam and I talk about this decision the more we confuse one another. He is in. I am out. I am in and he is out. What if… What if there comes a time that we both find ourselves on the same page wishing we would have had three (biological) children. This ‘what if’ carries a great deal of weight.

I leave my six week appointment… I call Adam.

Confession: I have an IUD.