Reproduction

Let me get this out of the way first: while looking for a picture of sperm on the web, I learned that porn boosts sperm production. That made me laugh out loud. Who researches these things? And how? So many things to be said, so little time...sigh...

We have a lot of friends and family who have kids the exact ages as Thing 1 and Thing 2. It was fun to be pregnant together (twice), to swap our birthing war stories (twice), to be experiencing the woes of early breastfeeding (twice), teething, rolling, sitting...and the list goes on and on.

However, this castle is just about the last of "the group" who have not decided on the "third time is a charm" thing. Before kids, I always said I wanted 3. Matt always wanted 2--one for each of us. The day we could not locate Ryley's penis at the ultrasound, Matt suddenly changed his mind--maybe three wouldn't be so bad after all.

And then Rosemary's baby was born.

I will be the first to admit, Delaney was an incredibly easy baby. She literally came out with a smile on her face, slept thru the night at 2 weeks, started talking at 8 months, just super easy going. And having been around babies a lot, I knew this was abnormal in a good way and lightning would likely not strike a second time.

Ryley came out screaming at the top of her lungs, and didn't really stop until 6 months old. She had the 24/7 colic I had only read about in books--you know, the ones you read and feel sorry for the people but feel confident that will never be YOUR baby. The only time she slept was while in the baby bjorn, walking back and forth across the living room. Matt still calls it the man bra. We loath the thing. And since Matt was working while I was on maternity leave, I was commissioned to be the "packer" overnight. On a good night, she would sleep until about 10 before she woke and cried until 3's Company was on--3:30 am. God bless John Ritter.

Take her for a ride in the car you say? Not this one. She hated the car. Cried every time. The whole time. Our first "road trip" to KC when she was a month old had me reassuring Matt at Boonville that she would eventually cry herself to sleep. Nope, she cried the whole entire trip. In freezing rain, so it took 3 hours instead of 2. And Delaney got carsick and puked. And we actually ended up getting snowed in, with nothing on hand. It was a great family getaway.

Needless to say, we have not been so eager to consider a third child. Had Ryley had a penis, we easily would have been done. Or as I like to say, if she had a butt and some coconuts...ha ha! Inside joke...basketball coach from high school? Never mind.

Chances are, since we went from one extreme to another, a third baby would be "normal". And all our friends tell us the transition from 2-3 is WAY easier than 1-2. Which would be good, because I now feel ok saying--I did not handle that well at all. I'm sure it had everything to do with the colic, but SHIT...it was rough. I was pretty bitter toward the baby for a long time. I know that's awful, but I'm guessing if you are reading this, you understand what I am saying. Allow me to say, I would NEVER shake a baby. But after Ryley, I can see how it happens.

So IF we have a baby #3, it should be normal. But that's a pretty big bargain. Matt is not there yet. To be honest, I'm not either--but I'm getting close.

Of all our friends who have babies, they are all perfect little angels. This does not help this baby bug by which I have been bitten. I finally got Matt to admit he has a little touch, too. Combined with the fact that we would LOVE to have a boy, that makes the case even stronger.

Other reasons for #3 include the renovations at Boone L and D and postpartum, the new sleep sacks they give the babies to sleep in, and the fact that the girls are REALLY bugging us for a brother. In that order. And I really do love babies--the snuggles, the smells (yep, all of them), the smiles, the 8 weeks off...

Childbirth and newborns are HARD WORK, but the most rewarding work ever. I secretly love the middle-of-the-night feedings when it was just me and one of the girls. Even Ryley--I still remember how she would hold my pinky finger from day 1 every time she nursed. Sure, as moms, we never talk about those sacred moments--because it's more fun to scare the shit out of everyone by talking about the colic (it sucked ASS), the breast milk-shit that shoots out of the top and both legs of a diaper, how much those diapers and everything else to do with babies cost and the extreme sleeplessness.

And yet, despite all the UGH that goes with a baby--even the colicky ones like Ryley, you have the lifetime love of a perfect little part of yourself. My babies already do things that are NOT perfect and I know it will only get worse, but if you have ever asked me about them, you know I am unable to talk about my girls without smiling. Having a baby is a blessing beyond belief.

Tear.

So this is my mind lately. Last night, I came one step closer to convincing the king we need a prince--over this yet-to-be-conceived child with a penis's name. I went to bed feeling smug. And then God gave me a gentle reminder.

Ryley loves doll babies. As luck--or fate--has it, one of the loud obnoxious ones was left by the side of the bed. In the middle of the night, the damn thing goes off. First it cries, then it's "sucking" and then saying "Ma ma ma ma...gooooooo." I snapped to very quickly, was on my feet saying, "What? Where is it? What time is it?" I am confident Matty headidn't hear any of this. And hell, maybe it was part of my dream.

But in the light of day, it is very clear that it was a message from God.

Thank you, Jesus, for my Mirena implant.