I’ve decided i’m done. No more kids.
I’m happy with two.
It was hard.
A tough decision to make.
You’re given the power of magic.
To create a person.
How can you decide to pack your wand and cape away?
Addendum: i thought it worth stressing the degree of poetic license here. I did, of course, make this decision with my wonderful husband. But, as ever, this post is about me.
The first time breastfeeding, the challenge was always how to latch my son on without exposing a hint of nipple. Timing was everything. Unhook, cup down, top up a fraction, boy on. All in the blink of an eye. Any longer and i would be exposed. My modesty shattered.
Second time round, my whole breast could have been on show for all i cared – so long as my new “grandma” tummy was well tucked into my trousers. Waistband pulled up, tummy tucked in. Now unhook, cup down, top up…(get baby ready, maybe stop for a chat), baby on. If anyone was looking, who cared, i had two children to look after for goodness sake.
It’s true what they say about your stomach shrinking back more quickly after the second child (no doubt due to the agonising “after pains” you get, as if commupance for an ever so slightly shorter labour). Unfortunately the truth is, your skin doesn’t shrink back at the same rate, resulting in skin like a hippopotamus’s behind.
Tights are my new best friend. Great for tucking in an unsightly bulge. A tummy safety blanket. Big knickers AND tights, even better.
Mind you, this new skin thing isn’t confined to the tummy area. If you catch yourself while bending over to pick up some small play item from the floor you may be surprised by the texture of your decolletage. That coupled with the sight of a tummy that, without any thread of musculature, hangs there like an enormous teardrop, crying for the toned tummy it once was.
There’s nothing like a second child (or 3rd or 4th god forbid) for letting yourself go.
Turns out i was in pretty good nick after the first.
Selfishness or vanity – this is one reason why i’ve decided not to have anymore. I’m not sure my body could take it. Or at least i doubt i would much like the result.
Yesterday i thought the world was ending. By the time evening came i’d decided to a) throw the towel in on my OU course b) resign from my post as resident homemaker, and c) give my kids away. Things were serious.
And what was the cause of this nervous collapse?
It is the week before my period.
Without fail one week before showdown i a) fall into total despair, b) spend days loathing my children and losing my temper at the drop of a hat, and c) become utterly convinced that a divorce is the way to go.
Then a few days before D-Day the night sweats start.
I’m not talking about a bit of perspiration here. I’m talking a bedtime sauna. Dripping. All night for two nights i am so hot i think my body is boiling me from the inside out. I hardly sleep.
Now someone up there must really be taking the mickey out of me because i’m not planning on having any more children. So these monthly cycles no longer serve any purpose.
Before i became a mum things were plan sailing every month. No mood swings. No irritability. No niggles. Even my boyfriends would have been hard pressed to know the difference from one time of the month to another. (and let’s face it teenage boys like to ham these things up).
But now that they are not needed these monthly occurences are turning me to despair and dehydration. Oh the irony.
It has crossed my mind that i could be having an early menopause…… i’ve heard these things can happen.
I suppose I’ll just have to keep hoping.
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