Lisa had an appointment with Dr. G yesterday and asked me to go with her. (She’s been feeling really “crazy” lately; I’m sure she’ll go into that herself at some point.) Anyway, her doctor is located in the hospital where both kids were born and as we were heading to the elevators we walked by an obviously proud (and nervous) new dad with an infant seat to, presumably, take his new baby home in.
I vividly remember being “that guy.” I remember leaving Lisa and Addy (and later Lisa and Peyton) in our room, walking to the parking lot and taking the car seat out of the Volkswagen. It was exciting and yeah, pretty surreal and strange. The look on that dude’s face — all that new-baby joy and panic — made Lisa smile. And it made me nauseous. (I’m being dramatic; it made me shudder.)
The second we stepped off the elevator onto her doctor’s floor the conversation between the two of us went like this:
Me: Well that guy’s about to take his baby home, huh?
Lisa: [Getting sentimental] Yeah, that’s so nice. [Silence]
Me: [Silence] [Waiting] [Here it comes…]
Lisa: [Sigh] When you saw him carrying the car seat and looking so excited, did you feel a little jealous, like “Oh, I could totally do that again; I wish it was me,” or were you relieved like, “I’d be freaking if that was me.”
Me: [Without hesitation] “Ah, yeah. THRILLED that’s not me. I’ve done it, it was great and I never want to do it again.”
I probably don’t have to tell you how Lisa reacted; you know her well enough by now.
I absolutely, positively know that I never ever, ever want another kid. I also know that Lisa’s still in some kind of foggy mom haze and she hasn’t come to terms with the fact that we won’t be procreating again — not that she’s said she actually wants to. If she decided that she’d never be truly happy without a third, I’d be willing to bring the topic to the table. But I’m being realistic. We’re lucky and have two perfect little girls. We don’t have the space, money, sanity, energy for another kid. So it’s very easy for me to say, with absolute and utter certainty and clarity, that we’re done. Lisa’s womb is closed for business. The oven has baked its last bun.
I don’t mean for this to come across as harsh but Lisa’s denial about the whole situation (even though she’s “pretty sure” she couldn’t handle another child) needs to be squashed.
I want to know: Did you and your spouse make a mutual decision that your family was complete? Did you want a baby but he was opposed? Or did he want another one and you didn’t want any of it? How did you (or he) handle it?