There are other issues oft mentioned like child care, work and how our relationship would do with another baby. There is my own hang up about bringing another baby into this already well populated world with the dangers that seem so much more in your face then I remember them being as a child like war (even though I was born during the last waning months of one of the most horrific conflicts in modern history - Vietnam...), strange new diseases, child predators, and for me, the depths of fear I have over our environment and what will be left for my children or their children in the coming years.
The thing I have come to realize is that I am glad we have waited. Every moment has been so poignant with Matthew. I never felt I had to rush with him. I can vividly recall the moment he cut his 1st tooth, the blood on my fingers, the tears he cried, the realization he has not fallen over but cut that very 1st most exciting tooth. The way his little mouth changed over the months until he had all of his teeth. I can remember in detail his 1st frightening steps - lurching forward on that exact spot on the carpeted floor right by the little couch in our old house at 8-1/2 months. Kevin and I urging him forward and grabbing the video camera to record the momentous occurrence - I remember it as if it just happened seconds ago.
I can remember that soft cone shaped head with his downy, reddish, newborn hair, the impossibly tiny fingers and toes that, yes, I did count to be sure all ten were in the right place, even in my drug induced state. I remember the pain of labor even when I was the deepest depths of that process... I remember Matthew's 1st attempts at nursing and my feelings of terror at how to do it ALL. I remember his little Magoo face looking up at me with those deep blue eyes. I remember thinking how I wanted to slow down and speed up time those 1st days at home with Matthew. I remember each tender moment of nursing in the wee hours and no matter how much I might have complained they really were truly the precious times with him. I would stroke his little tiny head and lay my head back, feeling his warm little body nestled against my mid section and I felt so calm, so right. I often (day) dream about those lovely moments.
I also remember the terrible moments just as clearly. The times he would cry uncontrollably in the evening during those early first few weeks, colic? gas? We did not know but we did know that if we took him outside, his crying magically seemed to slip away on the wind. I remember the horrible cracked painful breasts I had for many months after giving birth, the mastitis 18 months in, the time I came home to the worst goose egg ever on his forehead and I was not there to comfort him. I am sure there were others...
I remember my mother told me at three weeks 'you need to get out, you need to do something.' But I just wanted to sit there and drink my baby in. I did not want to miss a moment with him. For me, waiting has been worth it because it has been a pleasure to know and remember each moment - to burn each memory in my mind's eye. For me, the past two and a half years have been dream like. Like the best dream you have ever had and you do not really want to wake up. It took me a long time to find myself since the birth of Matthew but I really just decided the day he was born that I wanted to cherish each moment as if it were our last because I could not imagine doing it any other way. I wanted to give myself over to this little baby wholly because that felt SO right, for me. I love my baby and I am SO grateful that he has become a part of my life. I am so glad that for the past 2 -1/2 years he has been the most wonderful dream I could have asked for.
I know this coming year we have different plans. The dreams will change. I am sure they will get better but I also know that this crazy, lovely little world that has been all Matthew's will slowly start to change for him and now I feel like this is the right time. The right time to give myself up to some other little being... That the world, the environment, being a working mother, life itself will work out just as wonderfully as it has the past two and a half years. I will have twice the wonderful dreams that I had before and that I am glad for, today.