Finally- The Baby Post

Thursday, May 8, 2008

I'm still not really ready to talk about my baby issues, but a friend brought it up today so it seems timely. We had lunch at Pizza Port in Solana Beach* (pic from the web).

We haven't seen each other in awhile so we had much catching up to do. She asked if I was able to convince DH to have another baby. So, I told her the latest update which is this:

DH is indifferent as to whether we have another child. "If we do, fine. If not fine." Huh? I'm not talking about adopting a puppy from the shelter!

We had a conversation recently about our mortgage. I said something to the effect of "we had to choose between a house and another baby and it was the right time for us to buy."

DH: "We can talk about having another baby."

Me: "No, we can't because talking about it makes me think there's a chance it will happen and I know it can't."

DH: "If you want to have another baby then let's figure out a way (so far, so good). I don't want you to be all angry and resentful 10 years from now." (Not so good)

Me: "I'm going to be angry and resentful but it's my issue. Besides, having another baby just so I'm not upset is not a good reason to add to our family."

DH: "It most definitely is a good reason."

And I kind of dropped it. Seriously, what kind of reasoning is that? So I won't be angry?

If I have another baby, there will be no going back to work until she/he is at least two. Which means DH is the breadwinner and then he gets to resent me for the extra pressure it puts on him. It's like we're at the OK Corral, fingers twitching waiting for the other to back down. And that stinks.

When we decided to try for DS, hubby surprised me when I broke out the condoms because we had talked about trying but I didn't think he was seriously ready. He looked so disappointed that I might have changed my mind and it was really touching and sweet.

That moment, when I tossed the Trojan over my shoulder and we made love in front of the fire in a cabin in Hawaii, was the most special, romantic moment of my life because of the idea that we could possibly be creating a whole new person
right now. It was mind blowing.

But I'm now on the clock. He gave me six months. If I'm not pregnant within six months then discussions are over, the deal is off the table. No romantic meeting of the minds this time.

It seems I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't. Either I "force" him into having another baby he seems not to want or I take one for the team and wonder how long it will take me to get over (if at all) deciding not to.

The real kicker is that me losing my job makes this the perfect and worst time to do it. With DS, I was commuting an hour each way starting in my 7th month. I was on bedrest for all of month nine. Not having a job would make this pregnancy a full 180 degrees different. Maybe I'd like it this time. Maybe I wouldn't be so ass draggin' fall asleep in my car on my lunch break tired.

On the other hand, the child will need clothes (unless it's a boy, I have tons of clothes). We'd need a new crib, a stroller a place to move the computer and all the junk in the closet so baby would have a real nursery. And with one income, mortgage, HOA dues, car loan, student loan, credit card payment, dental work, food, utilities and gas + baby = no can do.

There are other issues too: the fibroids and my weight.

First, the flab. I'm not fat. I know this in my head, but don't feel it in my heart. I'm 5'5" and hang on, be right back..... 147. Pretty normal I guess. But I hate my body. I don't like what I see in the mirror. I gross me out. Thus the efforts to exercise more. I told myself I can't think about getting pregnant until I lose 10-15 pounds.

Then the fibroids. I didn't know I had them until my first check up. The doctor was doing the pelvic exam and said, "hmm... what's this?" I kid you not. My overactive imagination goes into hyperdrive and I'm picturing all sorts of scary things and I wanted to cry.

He asks if anyone has mentioned that I might have fibroids and I'm floored because how is it that I can be almost 30 and had the same doctors for several years at a time and this, when I'm pregnant, is the first I'm hearing of it?

Long story short, I have two in there (maybe three). One is lemon size the other golf ball. My doctor painted a gloom and doom picture of my carrying to term (I will not have another male OBGyn) and said he wouldn't feel out of the woods until I hit 22 weeks. Then 26. Then 30.

I was stressed for much of the pregnancy and DH got his command to send him home early in case we miscarried (He was activated after 9/11, sent to Hawaii to fill posts vacated by those sent to Iraq. He was supposed to be gone for a year but came home when I was almost 6 months).

The fibroids weren't too much of a factor in the pregnancy, but I have no idea what's going on down there now. DH wants me to have them removed. I say "stay out of my uterus."

So, to recap: figure out how to afford a new baby, lose 10-15 pounds and make sure the tumors I have haven't grown or multiplied. In six months. I think I know how this story ends. And it sucks.

*I'm originally from Chicago so pizza is a serious issue for me. I haven't had a truly good piece of pizza since I moved here when I was 9. Until this place. I won't order from a chain restaurant ever again. Period. (Birthday parties for kids don't count. I refuse to see these slices go half eaten)

add to kirtsy


  1. Hokay. So. Maybe a short version of our story will help.

    I wanted another baby; Bill thought two kids were enough. (Money was an issue for us, too.)

    Anyway, we agreed that oral contraceptives were the cheapest route, so I started the pill. And I was very bad at taking it daily. Was it on purpose consciously? No. Subconsciously? Probably.

    Bill realized that to continue to have sex with me might mean we wound up with another kiddo, unless he took matters into his own hands. (Pun not intended.) He decided that if we had one, okay. If not, okay.

    For two years, we tried without trying. (We weren't using any contraceptives, but we weren't charting and having scheduled sex, either.) Not even a scare.

    Then, in February 2006, we found out I was pregnant. I miscarried at 11 weeks. Bill realized that he maybe DID want "just one more." As soon as I was cleared to go ahead with the trying, we tried again...pregnant first time out with Miss T.

    I'm not saying this happens to every guy; I just thought it might help to know that sometimes, guys who seem indifferent can get un-indifferent (yeah, I made it up, so?) pretty damn quick.

    As for the finances? I have no real advice there, but I will say this - you can get pretty creative about it when you really have to.

    So much for keeping it short. Jeez.

  2. My parents really want another grandbaby, especially my mom. She even suggested I accidentally on purpose get pregnant! But I stopped with the pill a few years ago. I was tired of being "on something" and figured birth control should be Hubby's responsibility for a change.

    Thanks for the insight. We did have a scare about 2 months ago and he didn't freak out so I at least know he wouldn't go on a bender at the news!

  3. My vote? You will regret NOT having another one more than your husband will regret going ahead. I don't know either one of you terribly well, of course, so I'm just basing that guess on my own experience.

  4. okay, i got here from steph's site.
    (i haven't yet read steph's comment, will do so after i type this and see what a dumbass i am.)

    here's the thing. my husband was perfectly happy with 1 kid. he got his son. he was happy. i always wanted a shitload of kids. until i started having them... i mean, having 1 is easy. easy-peasy. that is, as having 1 compares to having 2. i have friends who have 1 kid, friends who have 2, and some with 3. the ones with 3 seem to be more easygoing than any of the others! i think, by the time you have 3, the first (at least) is old enough to 'help' with the other 2. if that makes sense. i have lots to say about this...

    of course, if having a second is going to put you in the poor house... well that's a different story.

    (btw, SO JEALOUS that you live in carlsbad. 'dems my old stompin grounds! i saw lacosta mom and i was like... umm, what could i possibly have in common with her?! turns out quite a bit.)

  5. So, so true about having 3. LOL. And mine are 7 years apart. (It takes me a while to forget labor & delivery, okay?) So, I have a teenager and a toddler.

    I do not recommend this. However, the teenager and the 7 yo are excellent helpers. :D

  6. Ok, I really don't have any words of wisdom to offer since my husband closed our baby making factory a year or so after my daughter was born (snip snip). I just wanted to say that I agree with what Steph said. You probably will regret it more if you don't have another child (if that is what you really want). I also can relate about the 'flab". I complain a lot on my blog about being fat, but it really is just more out of shape.

    Good luck with everything!


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