Babies on the Brain. My Brain Specifically.

It would be a lie if I said I didn't think about baby #3. We've only ever planned on two. If a third joined our family it would likely be due to adoption, as that is something that has pressed on Matt's heart. Or, if we win the lottery he says we'd consider trying for a third. But honestly, as time goes by, I feel more and more ok with either of those scenarios happening, if it brought a third little one into our lives. In fact, just the other day I saw a pregnant mother shopping with her husband, and I honestly felt a pang of something that felt like envy. And it wasn't just because her husband was shopping with her at Target! It was the growing belly I could see under her coat. As some of you may know, I've never been a baby person. Heck, I've never even been a "kids" person. But after having two babies, I can see how some women (or families) get pulled into having more. And those are words I never thought I'd utter!

Maybe it's hormones. Maybe it's because Sloane is our last baby. Maybe it's because Blake was still so young and I didn't get to baby Sloane as much because I was so busy still carefully watching over Blake. Maybe it's because I'm afraid of our kids growing up too fast, and if we have another baby I can extend the growing up phase, at least a little. Even if the oldest is getting older, I could relish in a new baby and the journey laid out before that little one. Maybe I'm afraid of my kids becoming more independent and not needing me as much.

As with each stage, the future is somewhat unknown. I only know being a parent to babies and toddlers. What is it like when they are going to be 5 and 3? 8 and 6? 13 and 11? Aside from the occasionally tantrums, meltdowns, and NOs, Blake is at the best age. But just yesterday she said something in her broken toddler language that sort of broke my heart.

"I do it myself."

And so it begins. The age of independence. My mom tells me I was the same way, wanting to do everything by myself. But whhhaaattt?? Not my baby. I'm not ready. I know she will need me on different levels for years and years to come. But how she needs me is going to look different, during each phase of her life. I can only wrap my head around being her mom the way we are today. Where she needs me for almost everything. Where I can still swoop her up and wrap my arms around her tiny frame. A little part of me cringes thinking about the day I won't be able to do that anymore.

So I get it. I get why someone, anyone really, would want to keep having babies. There is something so special about young ones. Their excitement. Their innocence. The way they absorb EVERYTHING around them like little sponges. I get it, because I'm right in the middle of all that. Loving the growth I see in each of my daughters, but wanting so desperately to keep them little and not see them grow up too fast. These moments are so fleeting. Everyone tells me, you'll blink, and they'll be starting high school. Driving a car. Heading to college. I hope I'm doing everything I can to take it all in, making memories and savoring the joy from these sweet little souls.