Two or More

My week has been dominated by two things: (1) the Olympics and (2) a sudden obsession regarding a potential increase in the size of our family.

One week ago, I was secure and content in the knowledge that our family of four was complete. We have two beautiful, healthy, happy children who are each other's best friends and who go to bed without a fuss at 7:30 and sleep until 7:00 the next morning (I consider both of those things equally important). It's just... easy. Our family of four is easy. Easy and fun and generally on the ordered side of chaos, and if I got the occasional pang when looking at a friends' newborn pictures, so what? They passed and I was content.

In the weeks after Claire was born I was certain we would try to have another baby. And then she got bigger and we started putting away various stages of baby items and a little voice thought, isn't this nice? I was happy every time we gave something away- we were moving on- enjoying the hell out of whatever stage we were in, but slowly and inexorably moving on to each next stage with fewer and fewer thoughts of going back. Soon, the thought of not be pregnant again, not get up every 3 hours with a newborn again, not have total strangers ask me if I'm breastfeeding again just seemed to good to give up. And as Landon and Claire grew closer and JP and I felt our lives hit a nice, steady stride, we realized four is a pretty awesome number. One that fits nicely in your average restaurant booth, hotel room, and midsize sedan.

The move only solidified the decision we'd started to make. We sold our big house with its superfluous space and fourth bedroom. We gave away every single baby item and accessory we'd held on to just in case. We sold the big kitchen table, the baby swing, the infant car seats. We bought a 3-bedroom bungalow, a beautiful queen bed for the fully stocked and decorated guest room, and now eat at a small, square 4-person table.

I'd also left a firm that provided 12 weeks of paid maternity leave for a government agency that doesn't provide any paid leave at all. I still make quite a bit more than JP and going without my salary is not an option. When I learned of the parental leave policy I thought, well, that sucks but at least now I won't be tempted. We're done and we're going to enjoy the heck out of the two kids we have and start looking forward to big family trips, the end of daycare payments, and the start of school, sports, and all the other activities we'll want to be involved in.

But then on Monday I finally sat down to download and organize some of the video we've taken over the last two years. And I watched this.

And there was a pang. A strong one.

And then on Tuesday a co-worker casually mentioned that our short-term disability insurance could be used for a partially paid maternity leave. And the whole room froze for me. Froze. I don't think I contributed a single other thing to the conversation. I excused myself, went to my office, closed the door, and called the insurance representative. After about 15 minutes of Q&A I went home with the knowledge that yes, we could now afford for me to take 12 weeks of leave. Not quite fully paid, and not without some sacrifices, but it was possible.

And "possible" changed everything. Wednesday night found me picking out bedding for the nursery I thought could be created in the corner of the guest room - white with little grey elephants, to be accented with bright teal and yellow. I thought about names. I decided we wouldn't learn the sex of the baby at the 20-week ultrasound and instead be surprised at delivery. I thought about how Claire was such a seamless addition and how it's now impossible to contemplate life without her. I pictured a jumperoo in the middle of our living room, with a baby bouncing up and down and watching his/her older siblings play. I thought about future holidays and grown children and the bigger family JP and I were so sure we wanted before we talked ourselves out of it. I was in and I was excited.

And then, over Thursday and Friday, I talked myself back out. Two makes so much sense. Most days our lives truly are easy. Travel really is important to us and we're getting so much closer to the days we can take the big trips. We're almost done with one kid's daycare career and the loosening of the financial corset that will come with public school. We refuse to own a minivan and I don't think the Sonata can accommodate three car seats. Neither JP or I are interested in quitting our jobs and staying home, a family/lifestyle decision that starts to seem close to necessary with 3 kids. With two we'd have more money, more time, more involvement. I was one of three. Three introduces a triangle- two people in, one person out- it's harder to stay with people, to make everything, to give each one enough. Two is streamlined, two is even, two is just so damn easy... adding another seems like throwing a wrench in everything just as we've hit a stride.

And yet. Removing the seemingly insurmountable obstacle of money has shown me that I wasn't nearly as sure as I thought I was. Two may be the more rational, sensible decision, but I also can't shake the inescapable certainty that we would never regret adding another little person to our family. That we'd never actually look back and think, "man, can't believe we messed things up with baby 3." Of course we wouldn't. We'd lay in bed at night, laughing over something he or she had done and think, "can you believe we almost didn't have little baby 3?" We'd deal with a daycare payment for five extra years, we'd find a way to be as involved and give as much to each as possible. It would work. It would be awesome.

But so would keeping things as they are now. I'm content, truly. I look at L&C and think, this is so very good. I want to stay like this. No, I want to want to stay like this. But I don't know what I want. Ten minutes ago Claire was crying on the floor for no reason we could deduce and last night Landon was in our room at 3:30 crying because he'd had a nightmare, and I think, no, two is good. But now they're both sitting on the floor, hunched over a truck book, and Landon is pointing out the features of each one, and an hour ago they were in their room, freshly awake from their naps and jabbering on about who knows what before JP and I went in to release them, and this morning there was a big tickle, giggle, cuddle pile in our bed, and when I think of those things, adding one more seems like exactly what we should do.

It's a win-win, I think. Our family as it is now is wonderful and I don't think I'd look back and regret not expanding it. Our family as it would be with a new, currently unknown member, would also be wonderful and we'd be so glad we'd made the jump. But knowing it's a win-win doesn't help me figure out which win we want.