“Three is a crowd,” my husband told me when I shyly brought up the question of whether we should have more children.
Maybe it was the complicated nature of the question or just the wrong timing (dinner), but we managed to get into a long discussion that culminated in an argument. An hour overdue, banana bread in the oven interrupted us with its burnt smell.
I don’t even know if I want to have more children, but I have been plagued by the question the last few months. We have two.
They are at the age where I can forget about buying mountains of diapers, carrying ten pounds of baby paraphernalia anywhere I go and performing the never-ending gymnastics of helping my kids with every move they make. I am finally becoming just a tad more relaxed, relearning the joy of adult company, uninterrupted conversation and eating meals using both of my hands. After years of being homebound, we’ve taken some fun trips and vacations.
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