The magic number

I'm trying really hard to enjoy this pregnancy - really hard - because I'm pretty sure that two kids will be enough for us. It makes sense - there's two of us, we each have two hands, we have room for two in our little home, we can fit two car seats in the car, you know, two just makes sense.

Lately when people have been congratulating me on our pregnancy, I have noticed a phenomenon amongst those who have more than two children.

First, they stare off into the distance with a wistful, faraway look in their eyes. Then, with a sense of desperation, they will grab my arm and say "Are you planning to have more? Will you stop at two?" When I say that we think two kids will be enough, they visibly relax, and then start to look envious. "Having two was great. It was easy" they say. "Hindsight is a wonderful thing you know. If I had my time over, well, as much as I love number three..." Then the desperation returns as they quickly tell me that they 'wouldn't change a thing'.

Now, I'm not naive enough to think that things would be any different for me. At this point in time I think the only reason I would go for number three is to enjoy pregnancy again, experience the magic of a newborn, watch a personality appear, celebrate the many 'firsts'...

Hindsight is a wonderful thing, and it's easy to forget how difficult, tiring, challenging, and sometimes painful it can be to grow, birth and rear a baby. I'm really going to try and enjoy this pregnancy, because it will be my last.

I think.

Someone wants a sibling?