Ever since Samara turned six months, it seems we get asked the question on a daily basis: when are you going for the next?
The question is complicated by my competing emotions. In some ways, I can hardly imagine loving anything as fiercely or completely as I love my daughter. I pretty much feel that she is the most perfect being to ever grace this planet and I tell her so daily. I probably should be concerned that her head will swell with my overwhelming love. But I am not. Instead, I am only concerned with making sure that her every need is met, that she is healthy, happy and comfortable. But most of all, that she is spoiled by my attention; My 100%, undivided, unfettered adoration. I am so totally whipped. If a friend acted this way in a relationship, I would probably tell her to read "He's Just not that Into You" and to simmer down--"There is a reason we have stalking laws in this country, my friend."
Luckily, I am not worried about scaring my baby off. She seems to dig me, too. The two of us are in our own little cocoon and when her father brings up trying for the second, it is almost an insult. How could we ever create something so perfect again? After Michelangelo painted the Sistine Chapel, did the Pope start bugging him for a new one ("Gee Mike, we totally dug the first effort, but let's do it again--with some pizazz this time")? Do I have to remind anyone about the Godfather III, Rocky II, or all those Fri. the 13th movies? Bitch, please. Sequels suck. I just want to drink in the success of my first effort, rest on my laurels, if you will. But not R. Oh no. He is all about the second. When? When? When?
The funny part is, I wanted four when we first started. I was all about my B-W soccer team. But now? I feel that one is plenty. I can hardly stand the thought of taking any attention or love away from my little superstar. Some might say this is the exact reason to go for a second. Some might say I need to back off, let the kid breathe a little. But some have kids that get hit by semi-trucks... but I digress. It is true that Samara might benefit from a bit of divided attention, say when she wants to go to the bathroom alone--or to college. Perhaps she will want someone else for her crazy mama to put some focus on.
As R says, when I want something I want an extreme. It is either one or four with me. And guess what? Apparently the new "in" thing is to have a brood. According to
this article, big families are all the rage among the social elite. As for me, I am on the fence. As my daughter grows, perhaps I will miss her little baby arms, the sweet way she turns her head into my chest when she is shy or her excitement at the smallest thing. I love having a baby.
But it is hard to imagine ever wanting to go through pregnancy or breastfeeding again. I want my body back 100% to myself. I love her with every inch of my body--literally. But I am ready for a tiny bit of distance, just enough to be able to leave for two hours without hyperventilating. I fear a second would just put me back to square one.
Will some bell go off in my head when I am ready? And what if I am never ready? What if the name of my show would be "One is Enough"? Would Dick Van Patten come back and sue me for copyright infringement?
I don't know the answers yet. But for now, I am content with a single serving of baby.