Every few months for the past year or so, I've had this strong urge to procreate, like a deep, deep desire in my uterus, (most would say "the pit of my stomach" or "my gut" -but that is not where babies come from), to have life inside me. Yet every time this little alarm would go off, my head would chime in "but now isn't a good time". I always tell people my body might be saying "yes", but I can talk myself out of having a baby in just a few seconds..."we need a bigger house, the girls are too old, I'm getting older, hubby's in school...." No need to go on you get the gist.
Last night, when my body made its plea, I realized my mind is in compliance. None of the usual "justifications" for tabling the discussion came up, as a matter of fact, I talked myself into it: Yes, our daughters are 10, 8, and 5, and they have great spacing. This new addition would be 7 years younger than my youngest, but the girls will be older and more mature. We live comfortably in our home, one more wouldn't put us out, plus I grew up with my extended family living in one house, we were cozy but also close; (I love that about my family). I'm only 33, so I haven't reached my cutoff (35) just yet. Hubby will only be in school for 6 more months. These counter-arguments have always been there, been available to me, but I never wanted to use them.
Now though, I have the feeling that all my fence sitting has put my husband on the "it's not the right time" train. The
Until next time,