watching time fly

Matt and I have always intended for Alice to have a sibling. Intended being the operative word here. As in, part of a very general conversation when we first thought about kids. As in: siblings? Of course! Of course we want more than one child. Of course we want our kid(s) to have a partner to joke with, conspire with, join forces with against us as we grow old. Of course.

Then we had one child. And the conversation drastically changed. Suddenly the thought of another child makes me break out in a sweat, stomach turning with anxiety.

It seems many across the blogosphere are also talking about the possibility of a second child. It's tricky, this contemplation of the second child. With the first you have the gift of ignorance, the unknowing of sleep deprivation and loss of freedom. You are not yet aware of how deep your rage and resentment can go. And how much your relationships can change.

It's all this that holds me back.

I get asked all the time whether I am thinking about a second child. The short answer: yes. Yes we are thinking about it. Yes we would like Alice to have a sibling. Yes, oh yes. But it's so much more complicated than a simple answer. It's a loaded answer, because it's full of doubt and fear and the unwillingness to jump headfirst into the unknown again. Because I have seen this unknown, and I feel like I am still coming out of it.

And so I bide my time, shrugging my shoulders at the passing time. Always aware that Alice turns four in March and my body gets older.

This past weekend, I was lucky enough to see a new family of four. Our friends R. and I. held a welcoming party for their new baby. It was a lovely afternoon, full of giggling preschoolers and tired but laughing parents. Our friends' first child is much like Alice in temperament and energy, and I was curious to know what it was REALLY like - having two kids instead of one. I asked the new-again mom straight-up: how is it? And she said "you know, in all honesty, it's not as bad as I thought it would be". We talked about the challenges of experiencing sleep deprivation all over again, this time with a 3 year old running around, and something she said very much resonated with me. "The hard time, though, it passes. Eventually, it gets better." And she's right. The first months do end, and the newborn gets older. It is not a finite experience. They get older, sleep gets easier, and then suddenly they are chatting with you at the dinner table about why cats don't have ankles.

We can do this. We can do this.

So what am I so afraid of?