Sunday, January 27, 2008
My husband and I got to go to a wedding last night. I honestly think the last wedding I went to was my own. Seriously. So we get all dolled up and wrote out our gigantic check (to cover our plates, I love that tradition) and went to the big wedding factory. I have to say I got a little overwhelmed. I am still a big ball of swirling emotions, and big events like this always add in a little anxiety. It was my husband's cousin's wedding, so it wasn't my home turf. I knew ahead of time that some mingling and schmoozing was going to be expected of me, and in my book that is considered work.
So we get there and start the obligatory travelling from relative to relative with the usual small talk topics of convo. I don't get into the particulars with bubs. If anyone asks how he is doing, I say 'great' and leave it at that. They don't know our story, they don't really need to, and my son is doing great, so no problem there. My husband introduces me to one guy, a random cousin I never met. Nice enough. He has three or four kids, and he asks us about our guy. We tell him and then he starts in on the 'are you having any more?' and we said no and the guy looked crushed. Like we kicked his dog or something. 'Oh, you have to have more' he says. 'No, we don't'. I say. God knows what my face looks like, I have a habit of gruesome facial expressions that don't always fit the crime. 'Oh, you really should have more, I keep beggin my wife for another'. I am thinking, 'listen buddy, did you have horrible postpartum depression bordering on psychosis, an infant who screamed bloody murder day and night who turned into a toddler who never looked at you, never spoke, never played with a toy, spinned wheels incessantly who later was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder requiring 19.5 hours of intense one on one service at your home in which you became a virtual prisoner, except for the twice weekly jaunts to the o.t. place? Did you become an obsessive parent constantly researching diets, supplements, recipes, therapies, etc., till you were on the verge of losing your ever loving mind'???????? Did you? Huh? No? I didn't think so. But I didn't say that. I just said " I am too old for another one". I would never ask another person that question. Gosh, I could have had secondary infertility, no ovaries, or something else wrong with my woman parts that were not any of his business or proper wedding convo.
Then of course this sparked the 'do you want another child?' convo that my husband and I have around three or four times a year. Not really what I thought we'd be discussing on our big night out, while a band played 'hips don't lie'. It makes me sad to know I won't be having another baby sometimes, but I also know it's a choice I made (with my husband)knowing how I am, how our marriage is, and what we can handle. I always hear that stupid saying about 'not regretting a child you had but regretting the child you never had'. I always envision myself as an old lady sitting in front of the tv with an afghan, watching wheel of fortune and just saying "I wish I had another child when I was forty one, why oh why didn't I have another child?". I am afraid I am going to regret it, but then the other intrusive, more real thoughts make their way in the door and I know I made the right choice, for us.