Punky is 7 months old and it is too early to start thinking about whether or not he’ll get a sibling. I’m a sane person – I know this. But it took us 2 years to get pregnant with Punky and I’m older now. It seems like we have to think about this now, or, if we take our time and then decide we want another child, it just won’t be possible.
Would I be WILLING to do the early morning fertility doctor appointments and inject daily drugs for a year, while trying to work full time and take care of Punky? The fertility doctor machine is a big commitment of time and mental focus, and I feel like I already don’t give enough of either to Punky. I’m on vacation this week with family and I see the other examples – moms who stay at home and focus on their kids’ development and happiness. Moms who work, but who are able to leave their kids with grandparents who focus on the kids’ development and happiness. My kid, Punky, doesn’t have either of those things – he has day care and a mom who is exhausted. At 7 months old, he’s started crying when I walk away from him. I feel so much guilt for not devoting enough time to being with him because I feel like he needs more.
Would I be ABLE to raise two kids? I know my limits and this might be one. Let’s say I get past the daily early morning appointments and we are, by some miracle, able to have a second child – that’s less time devoted to Punky by a parent who is concerned for his development and happiness. I know enough to be aware that daycare just isn’t the same. The women at daycare are caring and conscientious, but they are not the same caregiver that a parent or grandparent would be.
Sometimes I’m angry at the universe, or God, or whomever decides the circumstances around our lives. I wish Punky could stay with someone who loves him all day. I see the bonds among the family where parent and grandparent caregivers are possible and I’m jealous. My son deserves the best that life can offer. He is smart and handsome and quick to smile, and he comes home from day care with sinus congestion, hand foot mouth disease, thrush, mystery scrapes, etc. and, sometimes, bleach stains on his clothes (day cares clean with bleach because they are cesspools of germs and disease).
A second kid would probably take away from what he has, which already doesn’t seem like enough.
And what if his sibling hates him? My sister hates me – I don’t know why and it has been an enormous source of anxiety, pain, and frustration for me for the past 30 years. I wouldn’t wish that on Punky, or anyone. What if I take some of the time and focus I’ve reserved for Punky and devote it to another child, and then that other child replaces that time and focus with anger and bitterness? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
A decision needs to be made. Maybe next month.