It's a stance a lot of people take on having children. One baby. It was a stance I never thought I would take, but lately I find myself leaning towards that side of the fence. I find myself asking what could be better than this little girl right here? I'm not convinced that anything could be, so why mess with perfection?
Then I start to think how I would love another girl. Even though I really wanted a boy I have come to discover that I love being the mom of a little girl more than I loved the idea of being a mom to a little boy. I love the thought of two little girls playing dress up together, playing outside together, gossiping together in high school, and being the maid of honor in the other's wedding. Then, I think about how much I loved having a little brother growing up, how much fun we had playing in the yard, making up adventures and how much fun we have now as adults and I really want a little boy to call my son and a younger brother for Evie.
Just as quickly as those thoughts come, they are replaced by a feeling of completion in our family. Chris, Evie and me: a perfect trio. I think of all the fun we will have while she grows up: taking swimming lessons, building sandcastles, going to Europe, traveling to the beach, riding rides at Disney World. It's a perfect life, and for as permanent as the silhouette(s) of our future child(ren) seemed in those visions a few months ago, I see them fading now leaving only the three of us standing with Mickey or covered in sand and salt water with sunburned noses, complete, happy and whole.
I guess only time will tell, but for now our family feels complete; so I am throwing the "x number of months after Evie is born we will try for a second" plan out the window, telling myself that this is (obviously) a decision that doesn't have to be made today (or anytime in the near future) and enjoying what I've got, right here, right now.