Dear Child of Mine,
Papa wants to start trying for a baby!
WOOOOHOOO!
WHEEEEEEEEE!
HOOOORAAAHHH!
POM POMS
OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD.
BOLLOCKS.
This is what I have waited for for six whole months. Well, if you're a bit loose about the details, six whole years. I am going to be a Mama again!
This is quite a long tale, so forgive me if it takes a while.
I hadn't posted for a long time because I was feeling very glum about the prospect of never having another baby. Actually, glum doesn't do it justice. I was experiencing flashes of real grief. Papa and I had three very serious conversations about it. We concluded that it would be nice, but it's a massive risk and there's no way we could mitigate it. We either jump in with both feet and to hell with the consequences, or we walk away. I understood Papa's point of view. There are lots of other reasons, smaller, practical, what-have-you, but the big problem for Papa was the risk taking. And, if I was honest with myself, I was just as scared too.
Our best friends, Mary and Brian, have recently had a baby themselves. I was looking forward to meeting this new little bundle for the first time, and also dreading it, in a way that I have found is common in women with complicated fertility and ideas about family. Papa decided we should wait until we'd spent the day with baby Ruth. She was ten days old. Then we'd see.
Baby Ruth was what you'd expect - tiny, pink, suedey-headed and perfect. Papa came home and said he was broody, expecting hearts and flowers and joyous bonding. Rather awkwardly, I was not broody. She was lovely, I admired her and I enjoyed spending time with her, but I did not feel slapped by my ovaries in the way that I expected. This was a shock to the system. Maybe I wasn't broody at all? Maybe this was a natural ageing thing - an accepting that my family is already complete and I am moving on from the active childbearing years?
We talked again. Papa was confused about my lack of enthusiasm. Maybe I should not have shared my feelings with him, but I was shocked by them too. What did this mean?
Rather confusingly, I still felt the sharp pangs of longing for the baby I would never have. Each time I say a newborn I felt hurt. I forced myself to dwell on the positives in my life as it is, but I told him how I felt each time, and I even cried myself to sleep a few times. Then something odd happened:
Papa and I had row. A big, serious row.
I'll make no bones about it, I said I was leaving and, for about two hours, I meant it. I'd searched the internet for places to live and everything. In the cold light of day, I can't actually remember what the row was about. However, within a couple of hours, we'd calmed down, reconnected and both cried tears of relief, establishing we actually loved each other very much, really loved each other, and we wanted to be together no matter what. I can't explain how wonderful that reconnecting felt, or what a shock the blow out was.
We talked again about the baby thing, and decided it was the wrong time. If we were rowing, we couldn't have another baby, could we? I said that I needed to get on with my life in a more focussed way than I have in recent months. And we properly talked through a few big issues that had come up in our relationship, mainly relating to how my illness had changed our relationship and our family. We got a lot out in the open.
I did a lot of research and decided to sign up for an OU type module. Very exciting. Then, out of the blue, my book contract came through. I'd become a student again and was writing a book - hoorah! All sorted in my head. Sad, at times, but taking the long view.
Last week, this is where I thought this post would end.
On Sunday we were lazing about in bed (post coitally, actually, unless that's TMI.) I asked Papa again to consider having a vasectomy. I had asked at the beginning of the year, after five and a half years of his not wanting to commit to another baby. He said he'd prefer not to, in case we felt broody. I BECAME broody, partly because he had taken this point of view.
However, six long months had proved that he still had such reservations that he did not want to try again, which was what prompted me to re-request a vasectomy. He was extremely reluctant. I pointed out that he did not want to use condoms, he was unhappy when hormonal contraception reduced my libido, and that he neither wanted a baby, nor to remove the possibility of me becoming pregnant. I explained that this was a bit of a head-fuck and something I wanted addressing. His response? After a (pregnant, ha ha) pause?
"I think we should try for a baby. I think we should set a limit of, say Christmas, when we review how we feel and either stop or carry on if we want to. I don't think we should get too worried, I think we should stop using contraception, have more sex and wait and see what happens."
Fucking hell.
My response was: "are you sure? Do you want a few days to think about this?"
He responded no, he'd been thinking it through for some time, but wanted to be sure of his feelings before he talked to me. Oooo-kay, then. And, within an hour, he'd been online to buy folic acid, and had clipped out coupons for buying Pampers.
I don't know how I feel about this. I am delighted, over the moon, giddy with happiness. I am shocked. I am scared shitless. I am wondering what I have let myself in for. I am worrying how we will cope, and whether our respective ages will cause pregnancy problems or complications. I am happy. Papa just seems happy about the prospect of regular sex.
So THERE, dear child of mine. Wherever you are, I hope you're celebrating. We might meet soon. Papa and I have already started discussing what Christmas might be like if I am pregnant by then, what we might call you and what baby accoutrements we'd need to buy.
Of course I have to conceive you, and carry you without problems and deliver you. I know a whole world of potential difficulty lies therein, but for now, I am your slightly shellshocked, but very happy
Mama x
PS It's a secret.
An open letter to our mythical third child. Will he or she ever exist?
Saturday, 27 August 2011
Sunday, 17 July 2011
Lost
Dear Child of Mine,
Oh darling, you're further away than ever. This week three of my friends have given birth to baby girls, and one has had her positive pregnancy test.
Papa, it seems, has been humouring me all this time. He's quite smugly admitted that he never wants another child.
I feel very alone.
Mama x
Oh darling, you're further away than ever. This week three of my friends have given birth to baby girls, and one has had her positive pregnancy test.
Papa, it seems, has been humouring me all this time. He's quite smugly admitted that he never wants another child.
I feel very alone.
Mama x
Tuesday, 5 July 2011
Dear Betty Herbert,
So, Betty, I've been finding the format of this blog a little constrictive. I'm happy to be a Mama, and I want to be a Mama again, but I am also the wife of the incorrigible Papa, whom I adore to distraction. My life with him should not be discussed in all its multicolour detail with any of our children, even unborn ones. But it is still highly relevant to family life as I experience it, and especially to baby making. So, in this instance, I am changing the order of things.
I received your book, The 52 Seductions, with great excitement, not least because it touches on a sore spot in my relationship with Papa (I hope you will forgive the twee pseudonyms, but they seemed at once affectionate and anonymous at the inception of this blog.) We have been together for eleven years. In some ways this feels like no time at all, but in others we have settled into a comfortable rut. Especially sexually.
I should say, to start with, that we always prided ourselves on being sexually adventurous. If it was to be tried, we tried it, with the exception of a few mutually agreed rules. And we enjoyed it enormously. But after a while it kind of merged into a sameness, even though it might not be the sort of "vanilla" sex that other people had. Surprise, surprise, even porn sex gets dull.
I suspect, for my husband, that his main stimuli is visual, and context does not matter. For me it's about communication; I even like my porn to be communicative. Not necessarily to have a story, as Papa interprets this, or to be less explicit, as is often assumed about women. I need to like and/or appreciate the characters involved. How I like my porn is also how I like my sex. It may also be why I am so crap at one night stands.
The 52 Seductions wasn't porn-y in the slightest, but the same principles applied. Betty, I found the unburdening of your soul as thought provoking, intimate and warming as the sex. There was something about the dual storyline of your sexual discovery and your gynaecological issues that was very humbling. You can across as vulnerable. What a refreshing bloody change. I could completely relate to you.
At times I found myself feeling sad that my relationship was not like yours. For a while it felt as though I was doing it wrong. After much thought, I realised that this was because if my relationship WAS like yours, then all the answers to my problems would be there for me to passively ingest. And that's really, incredibly lazy of me, isn't it? It may possibly be a reason that my relationship has settled into this gentle tide, compared to the brooding storminess of its early days.
My relationship with Papa has, like your relationship with Herbert, always been based on equality. Papa is a fair, yet lustful, modern man. We have danced around each others views and put barriers in the way of our desires because we were afraid of one another's political views. Like you, I consider myself feminist and studied feminist writing at university. For a long time I carried guilt at being a complicated sexual being and felt as though this was at odds with my internal beliefs. Papa has always respected this, and has never asked me to do anything that I have felt compromised me. I wonder how much these barriers have got in the way of our lust? I have read Nancy Friday backwards, forwards and every which way and am highly accomplished at my feminist, solo sex life. But how do I reconcile this guiltless sexual freedom with my husbands, which is different from my own? His animal lust has not read the feminist textbooks. In the safeness and security of our marriage, should this matter?
For a long while, I carried a silent badge of pride about our sex life. Whilst others would lament how irregular theirs had become, Papa and I quietly maintained a twice-a-week average of satisfying shags. We connected emotionally, and sex became about communicating, soothing one another and emotional connection, as well as the obvious physical satisfaction. We could only wait for ten days after the birth of David before our hands were all over each other again - it was our way of congratulating ourselves, dealing with change, reconnecting, growing, even commiserating. In sex we had each other, liberated by the absence of words.
I - somewhat smugly - thought this would always be the case. The last couple of years have really tested this. I have been ill - housebound at times - and up to my eyeballs on differing drugs of varying strengths. My body let me down, and became medicalised and faulty, rather than sexual. I put on weight and stopped bothering with my appearance. And so, our sex life dwindled. We gazed at one another over this no man's land of health issues, pain and excessive weight. No matter how much I tried, I could not motivate myself to make love just to please my husband, and when I did it was not enough. He seemed to want swinging-from-the-chandeliers best sex every time, and this completely alienated me. Could he not see the sacrifice I was making in order to keep him happy?
Thankfully things are starting to change. My health has been steadily improving since winter. Instead of making love in our usual venue (downstairs, on the bed settee, with porn in glorious 48") we've retreated back to the bedroom. We've ditched the accoutrements that Papa was so fond of, temporarily at least, and gone back to simple sex and really connecting with one another. And guess what? We're having some of the best sex that I remember, and we're physically and emotionally closer than we have been in months.
The 52 Seductions, then, is rather timely for us. Papa does not read much, but I suspect he may read this. I am heartily sure that he will declare that you and Herbert are "sweet," as he responds to people on a genuinely emotional level that always surprises me. I am also sure that he'll mull over your seductions and think about how they apply to our lives.
What I expected was a tick list of every increasingly daring sexual acts (anal sex? tick! S&M? Golden showers? Threesomes?) What I got was an entirely more feminine, intelligent response to sex. I absolutely agree with you that good sex is about good communication. I hope that we can grow into ourselves and our relationship and at last properly believe that our sexual relationship is far more important than the sum total of its parts, and it's far more than a checklist of things that FHM or Cosmopolitan suggest we might do. The 52 Seductions was really, genuinely grown up, in a way that's made me buzzy and sympathetic and motivated and full of love and lust for my own husband, who is just down the road doing the job he's always done. I was looking for more things we could do, when actually what I think we need is to do things better. We need to be more vulnerable together.
Our challenges are different to yours. We have a young child who's up early, and a teenager who's up late and no family support. Finding special time alone is not as easy as it might be, and we are somewhat limited as to our location as a consequence. But the things that made our relationship dizzyingly exciting in the early days were not a bag with a multitude of sex toys in and a copy of the Karma Sutra. It was the ebb and flow and emotional anxiety and heady reassurance that love is returned. I'm really hoping that we can make this happen again.
Thanks - genuinely thanks - for being brave enough to share.
Mama x
I received your book, The 52 Seductions, with great excitement, not least because it touches on a sore spot in my relationship with Papa (I hope you will forgive the twee pseudonyms, but they seemed at once affectionate and anonymous at the inception of this blog.) We have been together for eleven years. In some ways this feels like no time at all, but in others we have settled into a comfortable rut. Especially sexually.
I should say, to start with, that we always prided ourselves on being sexually adventurous. If it was to be tried, we tried it, with the exception of a few mutually agreed rules. And we enjoyed it enormously. But after a while it kind of merged into a sameness, even though it might not be the sort of "vanilla" sex that other people had. Surprise, surprise, even porn sex gets dull.
I suspect, for my husband, that his main stimuli is visual, and context does not matter. For me it's about communication; I even like my porn to be communicative. Not necessarily to have a story, as Papa interprets this, or to be less explicit, as is often assumed about women. I need to like and/or appreciate the characters involved. How I like my porn is also how I like my sex. It may also be why I am so crap at one night stands.
The 52 Seductions wasn't porn-y in the slightest, but the same principles applied. Betty, I found the unburdening of your soul as thought provoking, intimate and warming as the sex. There was something about the dual storyline of your sexual discovery and your gynaecological issues that was very humbling. You can across as vulnerable. What a refreshing bloody change. I could completely relate to you.
At times I found myself feeling sad that my relationship was not like yours. For a while it felt as though I was doing it wrong. After much thought, I realised that this was because if my relationship WAS like yours, then all the answers to my problems would be there for me to passively ingest. And that's really, incredibly lazy of me, isn't it? It may possibly be a reason that my relationship has settled into this gentle tide, compared to the brooding storminess of its early days.
My relationship with Papa has, like your relationship with Herbert, always been based on equality. Papa is a fair, yet lustful, modern man. We have danced around each others views and put barriers in the way of our desires because we were afraid of one another's political views. Like you, I consider myself feminist and studied feminist writing at university. For a long time I carried guilt at being a complicated sexual being and felt as though this was at odds with my internal beliefs. Papa has always respected this, and has never asked me to do anything that I have felt compromised me. I wonder how much these barriers have got in the way of our lust? I have read Nancy Friday backwards, forwards and every which way and am highly accomplished at my feminist, solo sex life. But how do I reconcile this guiltless sexual freedom with my husbands, which is different from my own? His animal lust has not read the feminist textbooks. In the safeness and security of our marriage, should this matter?
For a long while, I carried a silent badge of pride about our sex life. Whilst others would lament how irregular theirs had become, Papa and I quietly maintained a twice-a-week average of satisfying shags. We connected emotionally, and sex became about communicating, soothing one another and emotional connection, as well as the obvious physical satisfaction. We could only wait for ten days after the birth of David before our hands were all over each other again - it was our way of congratulating ourselves, dealing with change, reconnecting, growing, even commiserating. In sex we had each other, liberated by the absence of words.
I - somewhat smugly - thought this would always be the case. The last couple of years have really tested this. I have been ill - housebound at times - and up to my eyeballs on differing drugs of varying strengths. My body let me down, and became medicalised and faulty, rather than sexual. I put on weight and stopped bothering with my appearance. And so, our sex life dwindled. We gazed at one another over this no man's land of health issues, pain and excessive weight. No matter how much I tried, I could not motivate myself to make love just to please my husband, and when I did it was not enough. He seemed to want swinging-from-the-chandeliers best sex every time, and this completely alienated me. Could he not see the sacrifice I was making in order to keep him happy?
Thankfully things are starting to change. My health has been steadily improving since winter. Instead of making love in our usual venue (downstairs, on the bed settee, with porn in glorious 48") we've retreated back to the bedroom. We've ditched the accoutrements that Papa was so fond of, temporarily at least, and gone back to simple sex and really connecting with one another. And guess what? We're having some of the best sex that I remember, and we're physically and emotionally closer than we have been in months.
The 52 Seductions, then, is rather timely for us. Papa does not read much, but I suspect he may read this. I am heartily sure that he will declare that you and Herbert are "sweet," as he responds to people on a genuinely emotional level that always surprises me. I am also sure that he'll mull over your seductions and think about how they apply to our lives.
What I expected was a tick list of every increasingly daring sexual acts (anal sex? tick! S&M? Golden showers? Threesomes?) What I got was an entirely more feminine, intelligent response to sex. I absolutely agree with you that good sex is about good communication. I hope that we can grow into ourselves and our relationship and at last properly believe that our sexual relationship is far more important than the sum total of its parts, and it's far more than a checklist of things that FHM or Cosmopolitan suggest we might do. The 52 Seductions was really, genuinely grown up, in a way that's made me buzzy and sympathetic and motivated and full of love and lust for my own husband, who is just down the road doing the job he's always done. I was looking for more things we could do, when actually what I think we need is to do things better. We need to be more vulnerable together.
Our challenges are different to yours. We have a young child who's up early, and a teenager who's up late and no family support. Finding special time alone is not as easy as it might be, and we are somewhat limited as to our location as a consequence. But the things that made our relationship dizzyingly exciting in the early days were not a bag with a multitude of sex toys in and a copy of the Karma Sutra. It was the ebb and flow and emotional anxiety and heady reassurance that love is returned. I'm really hoping that we can make this happen again.
Thanks - genuinely thanks - for being brave enough to share.
Mama x
Monday, 4 July 2011
Oh, Lord. BONKERS ways to convince your husband to have another baby.
Let me just say, right now, that I'm not going to be putting holes in any condoms. I'm not going to lie about when I'm ovulating either; these are just disrespectful. In light of my last post I have been Googling "how to convince your husband to have a baby" and I am astonished by how many women seem to think it's OK to lie to their other halves. Not cool, dudes.
Here are some suggestions that have amused me and largely left me thinking "wtf?"
1) At church let him catch you staring at little kids.
2) Turn the tables. Completely deny you want children. He'll be curious as to why you're rejecting him and suddenly want them.
3) Get a dog. When he falls in love with it, give it away. Then suggest you have a baby.
4) Don't talk about having another baby
5) Watch a family film with fun interaction between the parents and children
6) Act depressed, and maybe cry from time to time.
7) Just get mad at him and tell him to go and get snipped
Here are some suggestions that have amused me and largely left me thinking "wtf?"
1) At church let him catch you staring at little kids.
2) Turn the tables. Completely deny you want children. He'll be curious as to why you're rejecting him and suddenly want them.
3) Get a dog. When he falls in love with it, give it away. Then suggest you have a baby.
4) Don't talk about having another baby
5) Watch a family film with fun interaction between the parents and children
6) Act depressed, and maybe cry from time to time.
7) Just get mad at him and tell him to go and get snipped
Empty Arms
Dear Child of Mine,
Today is one of those days that my arms really ache for you. I feel as though I'll drive myself mad with grief if I think about you too much. Most days I can be more philosophical, but today not so much.
I ovulated over the weekend. Papa has been jollying me along with my broodiness, trying not to cause a row. I misinterpreted this as him approving of the idea. He's still indulging me in my conversations about what our lives would be like with a new little one. However, despite starting off what I thought was a baby making session without contraception, he suddenly whipped out a condom at the crucial moment. I was more than a bit gutted, but I put on my brave face and called him a spoilsport instead.
Writing it down, it seems as though he's treating me very unfairly. I don't think this is his intention. Papa has very good reasons for not being enthusiastic about baby making at this moment in time - and I am sure that he has good emotional reasons. If he doesn't want another baby, then I have no right to question this veto really, do I? In the same way that I would expect to be able to say no should he want another, and would shout loudly about brood-mares and the like if he were to try to impose his will onto me. However, I don't even know that that is his reason for saying no.
The thing is, David was very hard work and this has made Papa wary of small children. Also - and this should not be overestimated - Papa's place of work is closing down within the next three years. He's very good at his job and, chances are, he'll get a new job within this time. I'm 99% sure this is the case, as is his boss, who is a good and fair man. But it's a risk, and there are no certainties, and it makes Papa very nervous. I can understand his worry, and I am reassured by it - after all, I should not like to be with a man who makes babies willy nilly with no concern for how they might be supported.
The problem is that I will be 41 in three years time. The chances of my conceiving then will be much smaller. Peter will be 17, and that feels too old. I'd like him to feel part of a family of five, rather than that his parents had a new family around the time he left home. David will be nine. Again, that's a heck of a big age gap. Strategically, it feels much better to consider conceiving again right now.
The problem with deciding to conceive another baby is that it's rare for both people to be at the same place emotionally at the same time. It has not yet happened before to me. But one person does not really have the right to decide whether the other person should become a parent again. Looking at my friends' relationships, I think it takes one partner to be very laid back about the whole thing and leave the decision up to the other. In my experience it's usually the woman who decides when the family will be added to, or it's an accident. Genuine accidents seem like a real gift from my current position. Gone are the weeks and months of negotiating, wrangling and pleading. Genuine accidents must be quite rare, though - an accident implies that one partner was rather relaxed with contraception. Which Papa will never be.
I sometimes struggle not to be angry with him, because his veto is taking away my choice. I long to hold another of my babies in my arms. But I also appreciate his responsibility, and I love him. I don't want to have babies with anyone else. I feel out of control, and that is never a pleasant experience. But, ironically, I love him all the more for being sensible, and committed enough to me and the children to ensure that we are properly looked after.
Papa is not a bad man. If he could give me my heart's desire then he would. It's just not at any price.
He does not want to cause an argument or any bad feeling between us, so he listens to and indulges my discussions about you, dear child. He knows my feelings clearly. I wonder whether it'd be easier if he refused to discuss the issue and listen to what I had to say? That would be more disrespectful, and it would make me angry. However, his response would be clear. As it is, he listens patiently, and sometimes interjects with his own hopes and dreams. It could well be that he's taking his time and mulling things over. That's how it worked with David, after all. It took me six months of negotiations before we started trying to conceive a child. But this time? He says no but not never. He rolls his eyes and metaphorically pats me on the head when I talk to him about having another baby. I think he finds it endearing and irritating in equal measure. When - if ever - do I give up?
Mama x
Today is one of those days that my arms really ache for you. I feel as though I'll drive myself mad with grief if I think about you too much. Most days I can be more philosophical, but today not so much.
I ovulated over the weekend. Papa has been jollying me along with my broodiness, trying not to cause a row. I misinterpreted this as him approving of the idea. He's still indulging me in my conversations about what our lives would be like with a new little one. However, despite starting off what I thought was a baby making session without contraception, he suddenly whipped out a condom at the crucial moment. I was more than a bit gutted, but I put on my brave face and called him a spoilsport instead.
Writing it down, it seems as though he's treating me very unfairly. I don't think this is his intention. Papa has very good reasons for not being enthusiastic about baby making at this moment in time - and I am sure that he has good emotional reasons. If he doesn't want another baby, then I have no right to question this veto really, do I? In the same way that I would expect to be able to say no should he want another, and would shout loudly about brood-mares and the like if he were to try to impose his will onto me. However, I don't even know that that is his reason for saying no.
The thing is, David was very hard work and this has made Papa wary of small children. Also - and this should not be overestimated - Papa's place of work is closing down within the next three years. He's very good at his job and, chances are, he'll get a new job within this time. I'm 99% sure this is the case, as is his boss, who is a good and fair man. But it's a risk, and there are no certainties, and it makes Papa very nervous. I can understand his worry, and I am reassured by it - after all, I should not like to be with a man who makes babies willy nilly with no concern for how they might be supported.
The problem is that I will be 41 in three years time. The chances of my conceiving then will be much smaller. Peter will be 17, and that feels too old. I'd like him to feel part of a family of five, rather than that his parents had a new family around the time he left home. David will be nine. Again, that's a heck of a big age gap. Strategically, it feels much better to consider conceiving again right now.
The problem with deciding to conceive another baby is that it's rare for both people to be at the same place emotionally at the same time. It has not yet happened before to me. But one person does not really have the right to decide whether the other person should become a parent again. Looking at my friends' relationships, I think it takes one partner to be very laid back about the whole thing and leave the decision up to the other. In my experience it's usually the woman who decides when the family will be added to, or it's an accident. Genuine accidents seem like a real gift from my current position. Gone are the weeks and months of negotiating, wrangling and pleading. Genuine accidents must be quite rare, though - an accident implies that one partner was rather relaxed with contraception. Which Papa will never be.
I sometimes struggle not to be angry with him, because his veto is taking away my choice. I long to hold another of my babies in my arms. But I also appreciate his responsibility, and I love him. I don't want to have babies with anyone else. I feel out of control, and that is never a pleasant experience. But, ironically, I love him all the more for being sensible, and committed enough to me and the children to ensure that we are properly looked after.
Papa is not a bad man. If he could give me my heart's desire then he would. It's just not at any price.
He does not want to cause an argument or any bad feeling between us, so he listens to and indulges my discussions about you, dear child. He knows my feelings clearly. I wonder whether it'd be easier if he refused to discuss the issue and listen to what I had to say? That would be more disrespectful, and it would make me angry. However, his response would be clear. As it is, he listens patiently, and sometimes interjects with his own hopes and dreams. It could well be that he's taking his time and mulling things over. That's how it worked with David, after all. It took me six months of negotiations before we started trying to conceive a child. But this time? He says no but not never. He rolls his eyes and metaphorically pats me on the head when I talk to him about having another baby. I think he finds it endearing and irritating in equal measure. When - if ever - do I give up?
Mama x
Friday, 24 June 2011
20 Reasons to be cheerful...
Dear Child of Mine,
Yesterday Papa and I talked about you. I try not to talk to Papa too often because I want him to decide for himself that he wants us to have another baby, rather than be hectored into it. On the other hand, if I never mention you at all he would quite happily never give the matter another thought. It's a tricky balance to get right.
Anyway, he knows how I feel. I can't remember how the conversation came about, but he asked me the reasons why I want another baby. These are some of the reasons I gave. I wanted to write them down for prosperity.
1) Because I love Papa very much, and I would love to have another of his babies.
2) Because I would love to see how another baby of ours would turn out. Would you be dark haired or fair? Quiet and content, or stroppy and bolshy? Musical or sporty, or something else?
3) Because I love Peter and David very much. Yes, I have found motherhood challenging, but they are the most important things in my life by far. Surely another child would just add new love and joy, long term?
4) Because Peter is almost 14 and I assume he'll leave home to go to university in four years' time. I would like him to feel part of the bigger family, rather than him feel that we had another family once he had left.
5) I think Peter would be a great help. He might not be great with a tiny baby, but before long he could babysit for the odd hour or two, taking the pressure off Papa and I somewhat.
6) Because we'll only be a family of five for a few short years. After Peter leaves, it'll be the same as having two children.
7) I think David would be an amazing older brother. I think he'd find it tough, but I think having a baby brother or sister would be good for him long term.
8) Because right now my career would not be too disrupted. I could still write and bring home the same salary. I could restart my career properly once and for all once the child raising years are over.
9) We now have well established routines and a baby would fit into those. They're not unchangeable; more that I am at home, I do the school run, I make dinner at the same time each day, etc. We are settled.
10) I could write the book whilst pregnant, and receive the royalties when the baby is small.
11) We have a nice, large bedroom that would fit a crib very easily.
12) We have a spare room that could easily be a nursery. It even has a king size bed in, so on nights when you cried a lot, dear child, I could sleep with you and Papa could sleep undisturbed.
13) We have a seven seater car. You children could all fit on the back seat, or David could go in seat behind.
14) We have all the baby equipment from last time, so it'd cost very little. The only real outlay would be if you were a girl, dear child, then we would need to buy you clothes. However, with the unisex ones we already have, the gifts you are inevitably given when a baby is born, and what I can make I don't think this would be very costly.
15) I'd REALLY love to have a daughter. I wouldn't be at all disappointed if you are a boy, I have two sons and I know what to expect with boys.
16) We have names picked out for you already. If you are a boy you will be called Harry. If you are a girl you will be called Lottie.
17) Raising David was bloody tough. However, we know a lot more with the benefit of hindsight than we did at the time. Any slight hint of a lactose intolerance and we'd be down to the doctors quick-smart. The same situation wouldn't repeat itself.
18) I had post natal depression with David. Again, I know the signs and will be down to the docs to take anti-depressants at the first sign of trouble. Realistically, even if the worse were to happen, we have new knowledge and new coping strategies.
19) Peter was a wonderfully easy baby. I'd like to experience motherhood again so that I can feel less guilty about David's babyhood. I'd like to be able to conclude that the problems we faced were because it was a tough time for all of us, rather than because *I* couldn't cope.
20) Although we don't have a lot of support from our families, we're that much more confident at ignoring all their well intended advice. We have an excellent nursery and an excellent primary school nearby.
And there you have it. 20 reasons why we should have another baby right now - and I haven't even mentioned my age.
Papa didn't seem browbeaten, and he didn't offer opposing arguments too much. He nodded and smiled, and engaged with the reasons. He did say "oh, I don't know" once or twice, and he did say "but it's a gamble."
Yes, it is. Papa, I understand your concerns completely. I wish it were an easier decision.
Sleep tight, little one,
Mama x
Yesterday Papa and I talked about you. I try not to talk to Papa too often because I want him to decide for himself that he wants us to have another baby, rather than be hectored into it. On the other hand, if I never mention you at all he would quite happily never give the matter another thought. It's a tricky balance to get right.
Anyway, he knows how I feel. I can't remember how the conversation came about, but he asked me the reasons why I want another baby. These are some of the reasons I gave. I wanted to write them down for prosperity.
1) Because I love Papa very much, and I would love to have another of his babies.
2) Because I would love to see how another baby of ours would turn out. Would you be dark haired or fair? Quiet and content, or stroppy and bolshy? Musical or sporty, or something else?
3) Because I love Peter and David very much. Yes, I have found motherhood challenging, but they are the most important things in my life by far. Surely another child would just add new love and joy, long term?
4) Because Peter is almost 14 and I assume he'll leave home to go to university in four years' time. I would like him to feel part of the bigger family, rather than him feel that we had another family once he had left.
5) I think Peter would be a great help. He might not be great with a tiny baby, but before long he could babysit for the odd hour or two, taking the pressure off Papa and I somewhat.
6) Because we'll only be a family of five for a few short years. After Peter leaves, it'll be the same as having two children.
7) I think David would be an amazing older brother. I think he'd find it tough, but I think having a baby brother or sister would be good for him long term.
8) Because right now my career would not be too disrupted. I could still write and bring home the same salary. I could restart my career properly once and for all once the child raising years are over.
9) We now have well established routines and a baby would fit into those. They're not unchangeable; more that I am at home, I do the school run, I make dinner at the same time each day, etc. We are settled.
10) I could write the book whilst pregnant, and receive the royalties when the baby is small.
11) We have a nice, large bedroom that would fit a crib very easily.
12) We have a spare room that could easily be a nursery. It even has a king size bed in, so on nights when you cried a lot, dear child, I could sleep with you and Papa could sleep undisturbed.
13) We have a seven seater car. You children could all fit on the back seat, or David could go in seat behind.
14) We have all the baby equipment from last time, so it'd cost very little. The only real outlay would be if you were a girl, dear child, then we would need to buy you clothes. However, with the unisex ones we already have, the gifts you are inevitably given when a baby is born, and what I can make I don't think this would be very costly.
15) I'd REALLY love to have a daughter. I wouldn't be at all disappointed if you are a boy, I have two sons and I know what to expect with boys.
16) We have names picked out for you already. If you are a boy you will be called Harry. If you are a girl you will be called Lottie.
17) Raising David was bloody tough. However, we know a lot more with the benefit of hindsight than we did at the time. Any slight hint of a lactose intolerance and we'd be down to the doctors quick-smart. The same situation wouldn't repeat itself.
18) I had post natal depression with David. Again, I know the signs and will be down to the docs to take anti-depressants at the first sign of trouble. Realistically, even if the worse were to happen, we have new knowledge and new coping strategies.
19) Peter was a wonderfully easy baby. I'd like to experience motherhood again so that I can feel less guilty about David's babyhood. I'd like to be able to conclude that the problems we faced were because it was a tough time for all of us, rather than because *I* couldn't cope.
20) Although we don't have a lot of support from our families, we're that much more confident at ignoring all their well intended advice. We have an excellent nursery and an excellent primary school nearby.
And there you have it. 20 reasons why we should have another baby right now - and I haven't even mentioned my age.
Papa didn't seem browbeaten, and he didn't offer opposing arguments too much. He nodded and smiled, and engaged with the reasons. He did say "oh, I don't know" once or twice, and he did say "but it's a gamble."
Yes, it is. Papa, I understand your concerns completely. I wish it were an easier decision.
Sleep tight, little one,
Mama x
Thursday, 23 June 2011
50 things about me
Dear Child of Mine,
I don't really have any strong religious views - none that I'm happy to share publicly anyway. However, the very premise of this blog is suggestive of a religious viewpoint as I'm talking to you about life before birth. I kinda wanted to point out that haven't got a drum to bang though.
When David was a baby, he was very unhappy. He cried, screamed, grumped and whinged his way through the first year of his life. Lord, he was so wanted, but he was so hard to live with. In the depths of the night, one of the only ways that I could feel good about the situation was to believe that Papa and I had been picked as his parents because we would not give up on him, and we would love him no matter how hard it was to do so. It was a wise thought because now he is bright, friendly, chatty and confident. You will love him, but he will also drive you a bit mad. That's just how David is.
The idea that someone - maybe you - can choose us as parents is reassuring. It's also interesting as David has long been so insistent about life before birth. These days he's convinced he was a monkey, but he's a bit muddled about evolution. He used to tell me he was happy in the days before he was born. I will write my letters to you in this spirit.
Anyway, on the off chance that it's you that gets to pick us, I suppose you want to know some facts about me. So here are 50.
1) I am 37 years old. I am continually surprised at my mother's view of how this makes me unsuitable for parenthood. To her, being an "older mother" is a thing of great shame.
2) I love Papa more than I can even begin to articulate. He can be a right grump, and he can be very bossy. But he's a good, decent, kind man and every day I am amazed that I managed to find such a wonderful man.
3) A couple of years ago I had a nervous breakdown. I had pushed myself too hard for too long. My business went bust, having worked for 60+ hours a week for two years. It took me a long time to forgive myself, because I felt criminally guilty for a very long time. However, I have seen the therapist and taken all the tablets, and have been drug and therapy free for a long time now. My secret is this: I am not quite sure who I am anymore.
4) My favourite thing to do is to stay at home. I have lots of lovely hobbies, interests and pursuits here, and I could quite happily not see anybody. I am not sure whether this is a good or a bad thing.
5) Despite winning the school high jump championship when I was 11, I am about the most un-sporty person I know.
6) I really rather enjoy grisly crime dramas and am not squeamish in the slightest.
7) except when it comes to vomit. I can steel myself when my children are sick, but I hate it. When I am sick myself I turn into the world's biggest baby.
8) I used to be a secondary school teacher, and then an advisor. I earned more money than I ever dreamed I would. These days I work for peanuts.
9) I loved work. I don't know whether I'll ever be well enough to go back to full time work as I know it, but I should like to.
10) I am learning to play the piano.
11) I have always wanted to visit Japan, especially Tokyo.
12) I love to sing. HOW I love to sing! Sadly, I am rubbish at singing. However, when Papa and I have had a drink and everyone else has gone to bed, we very often have a sing around the piano. Papa also sings badly.
13) People used to tell me I was pretty, but I am a faded, Bagpuss-esque version of my old self. Baggy and a bit loose at the seams. But I actually prefer myself this way.
14) I've got out of the habit of daily grooming. I shower, and I wear clean clothes, but I don't wear make up or do my hair. I don't shave my legs very often either. The thrill of not doing it is deeply enjoyable, and I love to just be myself. When I do make the effort, I feel beautiful. A lot of the mums in the playground think I'm a bit odd, but to me it feels like a win-win situation!
15) I love pretty magazines, especially interiors magazines. There's something lovely about nice pictures.
16) I love the smell and feel of soft cotton. Getting into a freshly made bed is one of the biggest pleasures in my life.
17) I drink too much wine and I eat too much chocolate. I need to lose weight. I should really make more effort to do this.
18) I LOVE to make things. I can knit, crochet, sew, paint, quilt - all sorts of things. I am at my happiest when I am making something.
19) I need 8 hours sleep a night in order to function. This is incompatible with early parenthood.
20) I have started knitting baby clothes for you. This is a secret because, frankly, it's a bit weird and fits into the arena of the unhinged. However, it makes me feel good. I found a group of women on Ravelry who are knitting for children and grandchildren they hope to have in the future. They each have something called a Hope Chest. Essentially it's a container for the handmade items they have made in advance. I probably should not have read this, however, it's an idea that has given me much pleasure. I am knitting my third little knitted jacket for you. Should you not appear, then I shall give them as gifts to other babies. I am rather enjoying my little secret.
21) Being a mother doesn't come naturally to me. This does not seem to reduce the yawning, gaping void I feel.
22) I like to paint my toenails. They are currently bright red.
23) I am very generous with cuddles and tell my boys that I love them several times a day. Peter does not like this as he's 14.
24) I am currently writing a book, which has been properly commissioned. This makes me very excited and proud of myself.
25) I'm hiding this one in the middle because it properly, seriously worries me. I have ME/CFS. It started about 18 months ago. Most of the time I am well these days, but I do get off days every month or so. There is no evidence that ME is genetic or can be passed to a baby. There is some evidence to suggest ME improves in pregnancy. Having another baby is a huge gamble. I know it is something that worries Papa a lot.
26) I should like to study textiles, music and psychology in the future, ideally to degree level. I have no idea how I will fund this.
27) I like rock music.
28) You know you're getting old when you prefer a nice meal in a quiet pub to a wild night clubbing. I am definitely in this category now.
29) I don't watch soap operas or reality TV, except The Apprentice.
30) I listen to Radio 4.
31) I LOVE driving. It's one of the great joys of my life.
32) My favourite chocolate bar is a Twirl.
33) I am currently loving the colours pale blue and dark red. Or pink and red.
34) I am quite untidy, but a bit anal about cleanliness.
35) I love audiobooks, especially the classics.
36) I really enjoy reading Ladybird books with Charlie. We have quite a collection of old children's stories that I can share with you. I adore the artwork.
37) I used to have my nose pierced. I'd quite like to have it done again.
38) I have never had an operation: when I was at school I dislocated a finger, and whist at university I broke a metatarsal. Apart from two pregnancies, these are my most significant medical events.
39) All being well, I should like a home birth and I shall exclusively breastfeed. I planned both these things with David but they didn't work out. I've not felt too upset by that. I hope to remain as pragmatic.
40) As a family we rarely go abroad on holiday because we just can't afford it. However, we all love camping.
41) I take criticism rather too personally and get upset about things that other people wouldn't even notice. I try REALLY hard not to do this.
42) I love good food; good pub food is something that makes me very excited. I love traditional British food best of all.
43) I used to play the cello when I was at school. When I've mastered the piano, I intend to take it up again.
44) I learned to swim when I was 14. Although I'm not a strong swimmer, I really enjoy being in the water.
45) I can't bear raw tomatoes; they make me heave. But I don't mind them cooked!
46) My favourite perfume is Eden. It comes in a green bottle. I haven't had any for about 3 years and I live in fear that they'll stop making it. It's not especially expensive or desirable, but it's very me.
47) I covet a FB friend's baby, and sometimes imagine that it's you I'm looking at. Her baby reminds me of Peter and David when they were babies. I realise this makes me sound like a nutter. I keep my thoughts to myself.
48) I'm ready to be a mama again EVEN THOUGH I know all about nits! No-one can say that first time round!
49) If I sit really still, I can almost smell your fuzzy little head.
50) I'm not very good at taking risks. Papa and I both like to make sensible decisions. This is why it's so hard to choose to have another baby.
So, now you know some more about me. I'll tell you about the rest of the clan another time.
Sleep tight, little one
Mama x
I don't really have any strong religious views - none that I'm happy to share publicly anyway. However, the very premise of this blog is suggestive of a religious viewpoint as I'm talking to you about life before birth. I kinda wanted to point out that haven't got a drum to bang though.
When David was a baby, he was very unhappy. He cried, screamed, grumped and whinged his way through the first year of his life. Lord, he was so wanted, but he was so hard to live with. In the depths of the night, one of the only ways that I could feel good about the situation was to believe that Papa and I had been picked as his parents because we would not give up on him, and we would love him no matter how hard it was to do so. It was a wise thought because now he is bright, friendly, chatty and confident. You will love him, but he will also drive you a bit mad. That's just how David is.
The idea that someone - maybe you - can choose us as parents is reassuring. It's also interesting as David has long been so insistent about life before birth. These days he's convinced he was a monkey, but he's a bit muddled about evolution. He used to tell me he was happy in the days before he was born. I will write my letters to you in this spirit.
Anyway, on the off chance that it's you that gets to pick us, I suppose you want to know some facts about me. So here are 50.
1) I am 37 years old. I am continually surprised at my mother's view of how this makes me unsuitable for parenthood. To her, being an "older mother" is a thing of great shame.
2) I love Papa more than I can even begin to articulate. He can be a right grump, and he can be very bossy. But he's a good, decent, kind man and every day I am amazed that I managed to find such a wonderful man.
3) A couple of years ago I had a nervous breakdown. I had pushed myself too hard for too long. My business went bust, having worked for 60+ hours a week for two years. It took me a long time to forgive myself, because I felt criminally guilty for a very long time. However, I have seen the therapist and taken all the tablets, and have been drug and therapy free for a long time now. My secret is this: I am not quite sure who I am anymore.
4) My favourite thing to do is to stay at home. I have lots of lovely hobbies, interests and pursuits here, and I could quite happily not see anybody. I am not sure whether this is a good or a bad thing.
5) Despite winning the school high jump championship when I was 11, I am about the most un-sporty person I know.
6) I really rather enjoy grisly crime dramas and am not squeamish in the slightest.
7) except when it comes to vomit. I can steel myself when my children are sick, but I hate it. When I am sick myself I turn into the world's biggest baby.
8) I used to be a secondary school teacher, and then an advisor. I earned more money than I ever dreamed I would. These days I work for peanuts.
9) I loved work. I don't know whether I'll ever be well enough to go back to full time work as I know it, but I should like to.
10) I am learning to play the piano.
11) I have always wanted to visit Japan, especially Tokyo.
12) I love to sing. HOW I love to sing! Sadly, I am rubbish at singing. However, when Papa and I have had a drink and everyone else has gone to bed, we very often have a sing around the piano. Papa also sings badly.
13) People used to tell me I was pretty, but I am a faded, Bagpuss-esque version of my old self. Baggy and a bit loose at the seams. But I actually prefer myself this way.
14) I've got out of the habit of daily grooming. I shower, and I wear clean clothes, but I don't wear make up or do my hair. I don't shave my legs very often either. The thrill of not doing it is deeply enjoyable, and I love to just be myself. When I do make the effort, I feel beautiful. A lot of the mums in the playground think I'm a bit odd, but to me it feels like a win-win situation!
15) I love pretty magazines, especially interiors magazines. There's something lovely about nice pictures.
16) I love the smell and feel of soft cotton. Getting into a freshly made bed is one of the biggest pleasures in my life.
17) I drink too much wine and I eat too much chocolate. I need to lose weight. I should really make more effort to do this.
18) I LOVE to make things. I can knit, crochet, sew, paint, quilt - all sorts of things. I am at my happiest when I am making something.
19) I need 8 hours sleep a night in order to function. This is incompatible with early parenthood.
20) I have started knitting baby clothes for you. This is a secret because, frankly, it's a bit weird and fits into the arena of the unhinged. However, it makes me feel good. I found a group of women on Ravelry who are knitting for children and grandchildren they hope to have in the future. They each have something called a Hope Chest. Essentially it's a container for the handmade items they have made in advance. I probably should not have read this, however, it's an idea that has given me much pleasure. I am knitting my third little knitted jacket for you. Should you not appear, then I shall give them as gifts to other babies. I am rather enjoying my little secret.
21) Being a mother doesn't come naturally to me. This does not seem to reduce the yawning, gaping void I feel.
22) I like to paint my toenails. They are currently bright red.
23) I am very generous with cuddles and tell my boys that I love them several times a day. Peter does not like this as he's 14.
24) I am currently writing a book, which has been properly commissioned. This makes me very excited and proud of myself.
25) I'm hiding this one in the middle because it properly, seriously worries me. I have ME/CFS. It started about 18 months ago. Most of the time I am well these days, but I do get off days every month or so. There is no evidence that ME is genetic or can be passed to a baby. There is some evidence to suggest ME improves in pregnancy. Having another baby is a huge gamble. I know it is something that worries Papa a lot.
26) I should like to study textiles, music and psychology in the future, ideally to degree level. I have no idea how I will fund this.
27) I like rock music.
28) You know you're getting old when you prefer a nice meal in a quiet pub to a wild night clubbing. I am definitely in this category now.
29) I don't watch soap operas or reality TV, except The Apprentice.
30) I listen to Radio 4.
31) I LOVE driving. It's one of the great joys of my life.
32) My favourite chocolate bar is a Twirl.
33) I am currently loving the colours pale blue and dark red. Or pink and red.
34) I am quite untidy, but a bit anal about cleanliness.
35) I love audiobooks, especially the classics.
36) I really enjoy reading Ladybird books with Charlie. We have quite a collection of old children's stories that I can share with you. I adore the artwork.
37) I used to have my nose pierced. I'd quite like to have it done again.
38) I have never had an operation: when I was at school I dislocated a finger, and whist at university I broke a metatarsal. Apart from two pregnancies, these are my most significant medical events.
39) All being well, I should like a home birth and I shall exclusively breastfeed. I planned both these things with David but they didn't work out. I've not felt too upset by that. I hope to remain as pragmatic.
40) As a family we rarely go abroad on holiday because we just can't afford it. However, we all love camping.
41) I take criticism rather too personally and get upset about things that other people wouldn't even notice. I try REALLY hard not to do this.
42) I love good food; good pub food is something that makes me very excited. I love traditional British food best of all.
43) I used to play the cello when I was at school. When I've mastered the piano, I intend to take it up again.
44) I learned to swim when I was 14. Although I'm not a strong swimmer, I really enjoy being in the water.
45) I can't bear raw tomatoes; they make me heave. But I don't mind them cooked!
46) My favourite perfume is Eden. It comes in a green bottle. I haven't had any for about 3 years and I live in fear that they'll stop making it. It's not especially expensive or desirable, but it's very me.
47) I covet a FB friend's baby, and sometimes imagine that it's you I'm looking at. Her baby reminds me of Peter and David when they were babies. I realise this makes me sound like a nutter. I keep my thoughts to myself.
48) I'm ready to be a mama again EVEN THOUGH I know all about nits! No-one can say that first time round!
49) If I sit really still, I can almost smell your fuzzy little head.
50) I'm not very good at taking risks. Papa and I both like to make sensible decisions. This is why it's so hard to choose to have another baby.
So, now you know some more about me. I'll tell you about the rest of the clan another time.
Sleep tight, little one
Mama x
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