This post is about a topic so looming and scary, so fraught with tension, and yet giddy with optimism that it will require its own new category: Tempting Fate, Again.
Yessiree, I'm talking about the theoretical concept that Todd and I may have another child at some point in the somewhat-distant but all-too-soon future. Can you tell I'm waffling?
In this blog, I will attempt to break down the myriad issues that make up this seemingly-simple topic. But I'm only going to do it one at a time. It's all my brain can handle. Or my heart, for that matter. Or that basic, instinct-only section of my inner brain stem (or wherever it is) that kicks in the fight-or-flight response.
But for the record, the biggest issue of all has never been in question. We do want another child. It would be nice if that child came to us with relatively little fuss and buss (read: invasive surgical proceedures, multiple miscarriages, scarring of either the physical or emotional being, or hysterectomy). In fact, it would be lovely to have this child myself. But we're all to aware that that may not be an option. Other paths, like adoption or surrogacy are wide open for us, and that may be the route we go. But for right now, the "best-laid" (yes, pun intended, dammit) plan is to have sex, get pregnant, and have a baby. At some point. (Quit laughing, assholes!)
In my next edition, I'll tackle a biggie: The little ute that could. Maybe.