The Great Debate of Baby #2

It happened about two weeks after my now four-year-old daughter, Harper, turned two.

“Sooo, Tay, when it is happening?” friends and family would inquire, grinning as though they knew a secret I didn’t.

“When is what happening?” I’d reply.

“You know…Baby #2! Don’t ya think it’s time Harper had a little brother or sister? Hmmm?”

Sigh.

The mere mention of fatigue or a stomachache on Facebook now draws a half-dozen suspecting comments: “You are feeling queasy?! You know what that means…your eggo might be preggo! Just sayin’!”

WHY IS THIS?!

Why do people insist that once your child has blossomed into an ever-adorable, pig-tailed toddler and grown out of her wrist rolls, you automatically need something to swaddle?!

I’ve heard the Baby #2 questions and pregnancy probing for nearly two-and-a-half years now. I still don’t have an answer as to when Baby #2 is coming.

“Not yet,” I’ll usually respond. “We’re just waiting for the right time.” (Or, if I’m dealing with an especially pushy non-family member: “Oh, we’re just practicing for now.” I’ve found this seems to shut people up rather quickly.)

“But aren’t you afraid if you wait too long, you’ll never actually have another one?”

I’m not sure if this translates to mean that if my husband & I wait any longer, life will begin to get too comfortable for us as a family of three or my eggs will dry up completely. Details.

What I do know is that so far, we haven’t been ready. Or, should I say, I haven’t been ready. The odd thing is: I want to be. I adore babies. I couldn’t possibly love my daughter any more than I do. And 95% of the time, I genuinely embrace being a stay-at-home mom. But when I think back to the first few years of life with The Force That is My Daughter (bottles, pacifiers, diapers, Jumperoos…oh, my!), I kinda cringe at the idea of doing it all over again.

Fun times.
Fun times.

For starters, Harper never slept well as a baby—and by “well,” I mean AT ALL. Not consistently through the night, at least, until after her second birthday. The bedtime routine itself was never an issue, but somewhere between midnight and 3:00 A.M., while my husband & I dreamed cozily in bed, the baby monitor lights would inevitably begin to glow in a sudden frenzy and a tiny voice would soon emerge: “Ma-Ma? Da-Da?” The cute questions would progress to full-out yelling within 15 minutes if we didn’t respond, and the screaming would continue for hours if we made any attempt to let her “cry it out.” We’d sleepily climb the stairs to Harper’s nursery to find a bright-eyed baby, up and awake and ready to start her day. In the middle of the night. Every. Single. Night.

What ensued to coax our beloved daughter back to sleep was a ridiculous nightly ritual that lasted almost an entire year. Here’s what would happen:

Our darling child would awaken, and either myself or my husband—whoever was on “driving duty” that night—would carry her wiggly body to the car, strap her into her car seat, and drive back and forth along Canyon Golf Rd. and Wilderness Oak until her tiny eyelids finally fluttered shut. Sometimes it took 10 minutes, sometimes closer to an hour. And believe it or not, that was the easy part of our insane routine. The transition from car seat back to crib was, by far, the more daunting task, and it involved both parents.

I wonder how many miles were driven to merit this result?
I wonder how many miles were driven to merit this result?

Once our precious daughter was asleep, the “driving” parent would text the other when he/she reached the gate to our neighborhood. This was the non-driver’s cue to open the garage, turn off all the garage lights, secure our bulldog, and stand, like a prison guard, silent and motionless in the laundry room, the door to the garage open and ready for the “carryout.” The driver would then pull into the garage—careful to turn off the headlights as he did so—emerge from the vehicle, and leaving both car doors open, ever-so gently gather our sleeping child in his arms and enter the house. Since our daughter’s room is located directly above our garage, the non-driving parent would attempt to silently shut the kitchen door behind the twosome, as well as all the car doors, and finally, press the garage door button precisely while the driver was tiptoeing upstairs—all in a calculated effort to ensure that the garage door was already closed by the time the driver and child reached the nursery so as to avoid any baby wake-age with potential noise and/or floor vibrations. With any luck, the driver would place our sleeping daughter into her crib, and we could count on another four hours of uninterrupted sleep.

This really worked…about 50% of the time.

Sleep wasn’t the only issue with Harper, however. Fresh, finger-wagging memories of my child’s stubbornness and shark-like determination before she was old enough to truly communicate and understand the concept of consequences often left me exhausted during her early years. Admittedly, I should’ve known what I was in for when her first sentence was, “I NOT!”

"I NOT!"
“I NOT!”

“I DO IT MYSELF!” was—and still is—such a common phrase in our house that I learned quickly: Attempting to curtail or combat her independence ends badly for both of us. However, embracing her strong will without being pushovers has been and continues to be a challenge for my husband and me.

For example, here is a snapshot at a typical conversation around our dinner table.

ME: “Harper, I’m gonna need you to eat five more bites of green beans, please.”
HARPER: “OK, Mommy, but I eat three bites, mmmkay?”
ME: “No, not OK. I need you to eat five.”
HARPER, completely ignoring my latest instruction: “Three bites, Mommy. It’s a deal. OK? It’s a deal.” She then proceeds to grab my hand from her booster seat and shake it as though the negotiations are now over and we are in agreement. We call this her “used car salesman” technique, and she has been perfecting it since she could talk.

At the same time, somewhere along the line, you know what? Everything became so much easier. We now go out to dinner without passing our toddler from one side of the table to the other like an Olympic Torch at a speed-eating contest. We now go on vacations without packing half of our entire house along with us. We now actually sleep six or seven hours EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. Our little spitfire is—and I have a hunch always will be—strong-willed and a challenge to our patience on a daily basis, but she’s also turned into this hilarious gem of a child whose constant comments—which my Facebook friends have dubbed “Harperisms”—keep us laughing long after we’ve tucked her in at night.

And I suppose therein lies my biggest reason that there is no Baby #2 just yet: How could I ever possibly love another child as much as I love this one?

She holds our hearts in the palm of her hand.
She holds our hearts in the palms of her hands.

To mothers of more than one child, it probably seems like a ridiculous concern. But for the singleton parent, it is a worry that keeps you up at night: How is it possible to divide the love in my heart between two?

I don’t have an answer for that, and yet, I’m not ready for her to be my last. I’m not willing to settle for only one “first Christmas,” only one Kindergarten class, only one of all these crazy days that we’re living. I don’t want them to end with just her.

Everyone with whom I’ve ever discussed this topic says the same thing: “There is no perfect time to have another baby.” And I have to agree, because I know that if you waited for a perfect time to have ANY baby—regardless of its number in line—you’d wait forever.

But I keep waiting, hoping, praying that maybe I’ll eventually feel the urge to dive in—head-first—off the cliff into that ocean. It’s just tougher now that I know the temperature of the water and how big the waves can be.

Someday there will be a Baby #2. Maybe soon, maybe not. But someday—at least hopefully before my eggs dry up.

—————

How did you decide when to add another child to your family? Was your experience similar or different the second (or third, fourth, etc.) time around?

Taylor
Taylor is a San Antonio native and stay-at-home mom to two daughters: Harper and Hayes. She and her Okie husband, Jeff, have been married 12 years despite their Texas/OU rivalry. Taylor is a former Clark Cougar, a devout Texas Longhorn, where she studied English, an active MOPS member, and often feels like a professional juggler. She relishes trips to the theater, loves embarking on new adventures with her family, and admittedly spends too much time on Facebook. A former contributor, Taylor’s posts center on parenting her tenacious, strong-willed first-born and the challenges she faced along the way to becoming a mom of two. She also served as ACM’s editor and resident proofreader, and as such, cares way too deeply about the use of Oxford commas.

7 COMMENTS

  1. After our first we went for awhile thinking we would only have one. But there came a time when we knew it was right. And for that 9 months of being pregnant I was more worried than excited. How will I love this one as much? How is it even possible? I really worried it wasn’t possible. But the second I laid eyes on him my heart burst. I describe it like when the grinch’a heart grows four times. Lol. I now get the question when will you try for a girl? Never is my answer. God knew exactly what he was doing when he gave me boys.

  2. I have a brand new two month old baby and going into all this I thought I wanted two children. Now that I’ve experienced a bit of parenthood I believe I would be fine with one. However, I value the idea of family and companionship and believe siblings can be such a blessing in your life. I would never want my son to miss out on anything or wish he had a sibling to play with or confide in later in life. I have to agree that the feeling has to be there and when you know it is right it’s right. I know we aren’t planning on a specific time- and the time may never come and that’s okay too. I have my blessing and for now I’m going to enjoy all those moments.

  3. We have three in a very short time span, not planned that way. Have you ever seen the experiment of trying to put sand, big rocks, small pebbles, and water into a jar? you could never get them all in if you went in the order I just stated but if you put them in some big rocks some small pebbles, the rest of the big rocks and the rest of the pebbles in the rocks all fit into the jar, then you put in the sand and then the water it all fits in the one confined space. that is how I think of adding children to a family. Each one is a different but they all fit and the love just works!
    Haper stories some what remind me of my first born she is tenacious and full of spunk. Our second is the polar opposite he is easy going, relaxed and calm. Never had an issue sleeping and eats! Eating was a huge issue for our first, sleeping was up there but eating was more concerning for us the first time around. Our third is a combination of easy going and not but she has personality that goes on for days. it is amazing how the same and different they all are. I’m sure if we were to have more (no we are not having more) we would get a different child all over again.
    You need to do what is right for you and your family. I’m not sure why people concern themselves with the family dynamics of others. I can’t tell you how many times I have been asked if all of my kids are mine. Or being told that I have my hands full. I only have three. You are correct there is no perfect time but you already know that and what ever you decide with your husband will be correct for your family. Sometimes it just happens.

  4. My husband and I both have wonderful and very close relationships with our older brothers. We want our daughter to have the opportunity to have the same experience. We also both come from very large extended families. Full, noisy, messy homes hold great memories for us. We’ve always known we wanted more than 1 child and we’re pretty sure we’d like three. Our timing for #2 was based on how far apart in age we want our kids to be. We want them close enough together to be friends, but far enough apart to be independent and have their own friends and experiences. We decided that 2.5 to 3 years apart fit the bill. We started trying for #2 when our daughter was 18 months. We’ll be a family of 4 in August. I’m not really worried about loving additional children. I’m confident that the love in our house will only grow.

    I have friends that are content with their one child and I think that’s great. Everyone makes decisions based on what they feel is best for their family and that’s what we’re supposed to do.

  5. i have two boys, so everyone thinks I must want to try for a girl. No thanks. I’m content with two.

    as for the dividing your love – i had the same concern. then i had two and i realized, you dont divide your love, it just grows. 🙂

    Love the part about practicing!!!! bwahahahaha!

  6. Our first child was a right nightmare when it came to sleep. It was more or less impossible to get her to sleep a full night if someone wasn’t in bed with her, which is why we ended up co-sleeping until I was almost 40 weeks pregnant with #2. We mitigated it a bit by buying a queen-size platform bed when we moved to our new house last year, but this just meant my husband got our master bed all to himself, while my hugely pregnant self slept upstairs with the toddler. After I had the baby, while my husband was on paternity leave, he made it his personal mission to get our daughter sleeping through the night, in her own bed, alone. And once he got involved, it finally happened! I’m co-sleeping with the new baby boy, but he’s a much better sleeper than his sister ever was. I jokingly tell people he’s my reward for surviving his sister. I’m hoping I have the heart/stomach to let him sleep in his crib as soon as he’s consistently sleeping through the night.

    Also, I had the same concerns about loving #2 as much as #1, but it’s funny how your heart just expands with the second kid, and you love them just as much (though maybe in a different way) as you did the first.

    Good luck with whatever you choose!!

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