A long time ago, in a galaxy far away, called Columbia, MD, a man and woman got married and dreamed of someday having a family. The man, we'll call him "J", was an only child and as a result of the childhood trauma of never getting away with anything, wanted to make certain he had enough kids to spread blame around. The woman, we'll call her "E", had not much opinion on the subject, though she had once made a deal with her friend Heather that Heather would be pregnant with all the kids and E would raise them.
You may have guessed, I'm talking about us. I really didn't have much desire to have kids until Jeff and I got together. Those of you that know Jeff will understand immediately how I knew that having kids with him would be an adventure I didn't want to miss. We were married in September 2003, and didn't decide to "try" to have kids right away, so much as we didn't try to prevent things. Those of you that know me well will know that after a month or two of that not working, my goal-oriented personality kicked in and we got serious about the matter. Elizabeth Helen, "Scout" as we called her then, was discovered to exist right around May of 2004 and was born on January 4, 2005. The second she was in my arms, I knew that we would have another baby, and soon. I knew it like I knew that I was going to marry Jeff after one phone conversation.
Sure enough, nine short months later, I woke up in the middle of the night to the knowledge that I could smell the entire contents of my fridge from my bed and I knew that I was pregnant. Margaret Leigh was born in July 2006. Poor Maggie's "in utero" nickname was Avis - cause number 2 has to try harder. As anyone who has had a second child knows, the transition from one to two kids is as earth shaking as from zero to one. Maggie came out with definite opinions and an altimeter that prevented her from sleeping unless being held between 4'4" and 4'8" inches off the ground. There was a definite learning curve and Jeff and I struggled to catch up to our much smarter baby.
However on Maggie's first birthday, when it came time to throw away the "1" candle that I had used for both girls cakes, I hesitated. Partially cause Maggie had slept like a dollbaby through the whole party, her peaches and cream complexion glowing in the summer sun, but mostly cause I knew in my heart I wasn't done. Our family wasn't complete. Two months later, we were blessed with our third baby.
Jack came to us in June 2008, and he is truly a character. I am constantly amazed at how different all three of my kids are - from the way they were born to the way they play. People said to us all the time, "Guess you can stop, you have the boy!" and I would get pissed. Like my girls weren't enough for me. Coming from a matriarchal family, I can't understand the whole "carry on the family name" thing. My grandfather had three daughters, and I can't imagine that a son with the last name Hoover could do better at carrying on family traditions and teaching the generations about what it is to be a close family. I would joke with Jeff that the only way to shut people up would be to have another baby, to make it clear that we weren't "trying for a boy". The only other good reason to have a fourth baby was to make sure that our Mags didn't suffer too much from middle child syndrome. The list of reasons to not have more kids was endless. But yet, neither of us could say - to each other - that we were done. We told everyone else we were done of course, cause when you start talking about wanting a fourth child people start looking at you like you might have something contagious.
We finally decided we'd give it one month. And voila, fouth child. AKA Bullseye, due March 9th
People are funny creatures. When they see that I'm pregnant, (and you can tell from space that I'm pregnant right now, I'm as big as the damned Great Wall), people say "Oh how exciting! Your first?" and when I say, "No, it's my fourth" the smile freezes in that same way that smiles freeze when you give someone a really crappy Christmas present. "Oh, wow, you will have your hands full" is almost ALWAYS the response I get. Except for the old people, they always get happy about it and want to tell me how they're one of umpteen kids and that's the way it should be.
And just like I knew that I wanted another when Ellie was born, and like I knew that I wanted to marry Jeff, I KNOW that I'm not having anymore kids! I knew if from the start, but this pregnancy has been far and away the most difficult of the four. First I was sick for 12 weeks, then, I got a blood clot in my leg. Got the clot resolved, then I got an "incarcerated" hernia which hurt like a bitch, and for my latest trick, now I'm anemic. The ironic part of the anemia thing is that the blood clot was going to preclude me from giving birth at the Birth Center cause of the possibility of another clot. Now I'm at risk because anemia can cause you to not clot enough, and bleed out. Sheesh. Will my body make up it's mind? I'm "advanced maternal age" now - which is what they call you when you're 35, and I think that we've caught our limit.
Don't get me wrong, I know that I am blessed. For all my problems, nothing is life threatening, to either me or the baby. I'm just done. I'm thrilled to have my "little" family, and ready to face the challenge that I'm sure four kids, aged 5 and under will be. I'm doubly thrilled to face it with Jeff who is the best daddy in the world (besides my own of course) and the best husband a girl could ask for.
Now... if I could just fast forward a couple more weeks and have this baby!!!!
