A third child

A few weeks ago, Wild Man asked me, “Mommy, are Bear and I ever going to have a baby sister?’  Wild Man has been asking this particular question for about a year now.  He is very interested in babies, and he is especially preoccupied with a baby sister.  His most recent interest in babies was prompted by the birth of Baby Minerva, the daughter of our friends. 

Wild Man loves Baby Minerva.  The few times he has seen her he has doted on her.  He displays a gentleness with Baby Minerva that he no longer demonstrates with Bear.  Now, Wild Man loves Bear, and Bear most certainly loves Wild Man.  Their relationship, however, is one of extremes.  Wild Man is either giving Bear his favorite car, or Wild Man is holding Bear’s favorite car over his head while saying, “Oh, is this the car you want, Bear? I found it first!”  Likewise, Bear is either bringing Wild Man books so they can read together, or Bear is smacking Wild Man in a vain attempt to get Wild Man to pay attention to him.  In other words, they are siblings.  One minute they are hugging, and the next they are fighting. 

In contrast, Wild Man was sincerely interested in helping care for Baby Minerva.  He brought her toys, he repeatedly found her pacifier for her, and he even wanted to help give her a bottle.  Now, I’m not naïve enough to think that Wild Man would display this level of interest consistently if Archer and I were to have a third child.  I am, after all, the youngest of three.  Of all people, I know how much a third child can disrupt the lives of older children.  In fact, my own sister still identifies the day our parents brought me home from the hospital as one of the most traumatic days of her life (I take that with a grain of salt, though, given that my sister is more than a bit dramatic. . . ).  Wild Man’s question and interest did get me thinking about a third child again, something that I haven’t given much thought to recently. 

In the wake of Wild Man’s question and his continuing interest in babies, I’ve found myself thinking about a third child.  Do we want a third child?  If I had asked myself this question a year ago, I think the answer, for me at least, would have been a definitive yes.  I would have said that having a third child depended on so many things, but I would have definitely said I wanted another child.  Now as I ponder that question, I’m no longer as sure as I was.

So, do I want a third child?  Well, yes and no.  I do want a third child for most of the reasons I wanted a second child—I enjoy being a mother, and I enjoy parenting.  Given my position at CU, I would now be entitled to a year-long maternity leave, something I wasn’t able to experience with either Bear or Wild Man.  I have also profoundly enjoyed watching Wild Man and Bear’s relationship develop.  But I also don’t think having a third child is the most responsible decision we could make.  Children are expensive, and having third child limits what we’re able to offer Wild Man and Bear.  This may seem like a materialistic way to respond to parenthood, but it is a fact, plain and simple. 

Given the nature of what we do, Archer and I will be traveling a fair amount through our careers.  I feel like we can afford to turn many of the research trips into family trips for the four of us, which means that Wild Man and Bear will experience a fair amount of the world as children, something I didn’t have an opportunity to do.  Our trip to Italy, for example, would have been exponentially more expensive if we had to buy a fifth plane ticket. 

Beyond cost, there are other factors.  I would like to sleep through the night before I’m forty, for example.  We’re also at a point where Wild Man is becoming very independent.  We no longer have to stand watch over everything he does anymore, and I can see that point with Bear in the not-so distant future.  I’m not sure I want to start all over again, even given how joyful I find the entire experience of having an infant.  Archer and I are also able to get out of the house at least once a month to have dinner together at a real restaurant.  Our ability to do that (and the simple fact that we finally have a reliable babysitter

So it seems that I’m coming to terms with the reality that it is very unlikely that we will have a third child, and while I feel like that is the best decision for many reasons, I also find myself a little sad.  I realize now that I always assumed we would have a third child, and I find myself mourning the loss of that assumed child, which is a strange feeling for me to comprehend and to describe.  This feeling is further complicated by the realization that a decision not to have a third child means I will not have a daughter, and surprisingly, that adds to the sadness I’m feeling.  It seems odd, to me, to be mourning something that I have never known.