It started with a handshake at a drive-thru. Jay conveniently cannot remember the specifics of it, but I can. HE wanted ME to shake on having five kids, worried that I would back out, he was holding me to a “gentleman’s agreement.”
Now that we are one down, one on the way, Jay has changed his memory of the numbers. He says we said “four to five” and now “three to four.” Last month, he turned to me and said ” I would be okay being done after this one…”
I don’t really blame him. It has been very challenging. But I can see something I don’t think he can. I can see his happiness from getting a call from his kid. Then checking in with kid number two. And then hearing about our daughter from that kid. And the JOY he will feel from knowing he helped make that family. My husband loves to be busy. He also loves responsibility. Two kids would be too easy for him. He is the kind of man to have a clan.
I will be the first to admit that I get scared. Yes, I remember the sun-down colic from our first one. I remember feeling spread so thin when I was home alone managing her purple crying. I remember trying to get out of the house for a moment’s respite at the store to buy a few necessities…and before I even left the driveway, I would get a call to come back, “she is hungry and won’t take the bottle.” I remember crying…a lot.
But that little baby that had a hard first 6 months is the coolest, funniest, strangest gift I have ever received. She has a million facial expressions that make me laugh out loud. Her voice is unexpected and loud. Her kisses are the absolute best. It’s work, but the best kind…rewarding.
As my bump gets bigger, my hormones rage on, and I feel like a basket case in bed some nights wondering what is to come. Jay helps me to get it together. He talks me through it. He tells me the future looks really good. He’s right. And I am holding him to the handshake.