The third child. I’ve written about this previously, and it truly is a topic that occupies my mind on a daily basis.
When my children are (occasionally) playing together nicely, my heart sings, my ovaries beat, and a little voice pops up saying: “Imagine this with three! Go on!”
When my children are arguing (which is much more frequent), my mind wanders off into a land where three children argue with a completely different dynamic: there is a mediator in the trio. It is not as intense as it is with two.
We want a third. It’s just when?!
I love the two-and-a-half year age gap… now. Initially it was hard, but recently it’s a wonderful thing to watch. So ideally, I don’t want to wait too much longer as Busby will be five in December, and H-Bear is two in June.
However, at the moment I feel more mentally balanced than I have done in possibly over 17 years. I have blip days, but on the whole I feel pretty level.
I also feel like I’m getting some of my freedom back. Mentally, it doesn’t require the same amount of effort to leave the house as it did six months ago.
In terms of my literal freedom, my in-laws have the children once a week so I can work. And we’re looking into nurseries for H-Bear for another day a week. This will give me time to get on with more work AND finally launch my photography business, which I’m currently working away at when I get a spare ten minutes (so never).
I have to admit that being pregnant again and the post-natal period, with those hormones that send me loopy, scares me. The unknown element of “will I go near the edge again?” is terrifying.
Then there’s the sleeplessness.
Oh, and the all-consuming fear that we might have another baby who suffers from reflux and/or allergies. The screaming. The crying. The months hiding myself away because I’m too scared to face a negative comment about my baby that won’t settle.
But, and this is a big ‘but’, the circumstances would be different this time.
Busby starts primary school in September, so I would have to leave the house five days a week to get her. And this routine to our day would help with my anxiety immensely. As would the fresh air.
This would be the third child – and apparently the transition from two to three is much easier than one to two. (So I hear!)
Again, this would be the third child, so it would have to adapt to our routine, rather than us adapting to it as we did with both Busby and H-Bear.
I didn’t suffer from perinatal depression with Busby, so it’s possible that it was reactive due to the big relocation when I suffered with H-Bear.
If the baby did suffer from reflux and/or allergies we’d know what to look for this time round, so the diagnostic period wouldn’t be so prolonged.
I think I know I am overthinking this. I once told my best friend that there is never a ‘right’ time to have a baby, and if you wait for the right time, it may never arise… Perhaps I should take my own advice? After all, you never regret that babies you had – just the babies you didn’t.