I've been scrapbooking for a little over 18 months now. My plan was to do the boys a baby book each. I've pretty much done everything but this. The time has now come, where I am up to date, scrapping as I get the latest photos printed. It is time to bite the bullet and, ahem, start the boys baby albums. Yep, I have not even started them.
I don't know why I can't get them done, OK I am lying, I have an inkling.
Three times at least I have planned out a list of pages for each of them and three times I have lost the list and worked on something else when I have have been to a workshop or made scrapping time at home.
It's starting to dawn on others that perhaps the issue is my own sadness at not having a baby in the house. Once I've done their baby albums, it marks the end of their babyhood and my time as the Mum of a baby, in my mind at least.
I was planning on another baby. I have embryos in storage and this year we were going to transfer them but the stress of events in the House of O has not been conducive to this. I am an emotional eater and have ballooned in weight and have not had a normal cycle since February. Last night I broached the subject with the Workaholic because the new invoice for the continued storage of embryos is due in December and I am thinking that we should donate them or let them defrost. I am on my way to 41 after all! His reply is an emphatic NO! He wants to try again. I am definitely in two minds on this matter. If I'm honest I want another baby, but the sensible side of me thinks of my age, the sleep deprivation and mundanely enough the school fees.
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Several friends and acquaintances have recently had babies, the last on Saturday and their little squishy pink bubbies make me so clucky. Then I say to myself, I'm older and I'm lucky to have my boys with no major health issues. Mum's over 40 have a massive increase in risks for both Mum and Bub. I see risks everywhere.
Perhaps being clucky is the key. I am clucky. I have embryos in the freezer. Maybe I should just give them a go. That's how the Workaholic sees it, which is strangely out of character for him. We seem to have reversed our positions, he's always the one who sees the risks.
Am I finished having babies? I am not sure. Usually I think I would be of the opinion that it would be best to just give it a go and leave it in natures hands but I just can't get there. Is this a sign that I don't want a third? Is it possible that finishing their baby books may have the opposite effect and decide me on baby number three? Perhaps my embryos wont defrost and baby number three is not even an option. I know I am amazed that scrapbooking has led me to this blog post about theoretical baby number 3.
I am never this indecisive. It does not sit well on me. I usually decide, do and never look back. Why is this so different?
How did you know you were finished with having babies? Is it always like this for everyone?
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