number three

I am getting more and more excited for the birth of my third little one.  There were so many factors that went into deciding if we should have one more.  But when it comes right down to it, I love being a mom and who can resist just one more to love. 

When we first took the leap into parenthood, I had it in my mind that I wanted two children close in age.  Mission accomplished... but of course it wasn't quite what I had planned.  When the words Down syndrome entered our life all of a sudden things change.  My buddy may live on his own, but I don't trust anyone other than family to check up on him.  There are too many people in this world  that could take advantage of his open heart.

My buddy will never give me grandchildren.  While it's a little premature to be thinking that far ahead, it makes a difference to me.  I don't want to put too much pressure on monkey bear to be the sole provider of grandchildren while looking out for my buddy.  Although we are not having a child just to offer support to monkey bear, it's all part of the equation.

After my buddy was born and we looked at him and saw the unexpected in those almond eyes, there was such grief and heartache.  I am looking forward to a uncomplicated post birth (knock on wood) and the opportunity to just relish in the new life without shedding one sad tear.

Nothing broke my heart more than having to leave the hospital without my buddy.  I needed to have him in my arms, nursing and needing me.  My heart couldn't heal until he was with me.  Instead of bonding, I was left hooked up to a machine like a milk cow making endless trips back and forth to the hospital to deliver the precious nutrition.  There was not enough time for either child. 

My hopes for my third (and last) birth are happy smiles, no awkward conversations filled with all the wrong words and my baby in my arms the day I leave.

guilt

Another holiday is approaching where my buddy gets left out.  Granted he has no idea he is missing out on the fun.  Today monkey bear got to decorate eggs.  I really wanted to wait until my buddy was home from school and let him participate.  Then visions of a dyed egg being tossed across the room, landing with a splat, permanently dying the floor Spring Green came to mind.  Not to mention the thought of cupfuls of Paas being dumped on skin, clothes and hair.

I feel so guilty knowing that my buddy doesn't get to color eggs or bake Christmas cookies or even pick out his own Halloween costume.  I love a holiday and I especially love the memories of all the traditions and fun activities my mom did with us.  My mom hid Easter candy around the house up until we were in our 20's - and we never complained once! 

I find myself saying - but he's 3.  He should be able to join us.  Then he takes a spoonful of cereal and flings it across the table and I remember who my buddy is.  He has so many wonderful qualities.  He is funny and outgoing and genuine.  But my buddy is impulsive and reckless.  I have high hopes that he will grow out of this phase some day.  Until then, we will have our traditions when he isn't looking and rest peacefully knowing there will be many years where he will participate in everything.