Family Planning

I have baby on the brain lately. And by baby I do not mean LO, for LO is no longer a baby. She's a walking-talking-blooming little person.

I am talking about a "wahhh" baby. A nursing every-two-hours kind of baby, with wrinkly toes and chubby cheeks. LO had the yummiest cheeks as a baby. She has stretched out and lost the baby cheeks. Although she's still very yummy.

I think I want one - a baby. The fever is building. P and I had severe baby fever for over two years before we decided to go for LO. We would stare and ogle at toddlers at the park or grocery store. We were tot stalkers, in a non-criminal sort of way. Having LO was an emotional decision, not a practical one. We never discussed my biological clock, finances or any other valid point. Our hearts made the decision, not our brain. We thought we would have some time to deal with the practical factors but fate gave us LO right off the bat. First try. What a blessing! We cried mostly out of excitement and partly out of fear. Is this really happening so fast? Nine months is all we had to sort out the details. But as far as our hearts were concerned, this baby was long overdue.

When LO was one month, my friend asked if we had given any thought to when we want the next baby. What? But I have a brand new baby now. And I barely know what I'm doing with this one. She had some good arguments for getting on it again. The two would be close in age, buddies for life. And although it would be a hard few years, then we'd be done. True. But I didn't want to be "done" with anything. I wanted to give all of myself to this one baby. And I didn't think I could do that while growing another one. I wanted to fully experience the love, the fear, the euphoria, the frustration of this new relationship. I am sure other women can handle both beautifully, but I knew I could not and did not want to. So the idea of having babies one year apart was buried.

Then when LO was getting close to her first birthday, I revisited the idea. I did not feel the need for another baby yet. LO was still a baby in many ways - still nursing (not every two hours though!) and barely asserting some independence through crawling. But maybe we should try for baby # 2 now so the girls (I'm convinced another girl is in our future) will only be two years apart.  We can stay in our home town, where we had moved to from LA a few months prior, while I cooked the baby and have some family support during the arduous newborn stage. But then our plan of starting anew in Austin would be postponed even further. Plus, P was between jobs and my career was on hold. We had too many loose ends to add another baby to the mix. I shelved the baby idea again.

Now that we are semi-settled in Austin, I'm back to this baby issue. I get overwhelmed at the magnitude of this decision. The first time around it was more simple. The desire grew and grew until there was no other option than to take the leap. This time I am much more analytical. Is it because I know what is in store? I am now aware of the intensity and the commitment because I have lived it. It's like an out of body experience and I am barely, very slowly, coming back. I'm getting back to my own personal aspirations. Can I let that go already? Or would I be better at juggling the next time around?

I often wish I were one of those people who had a stringent life plan. A game plan, set in stone, so that you can refer to it when you are very confused (as I often am).  I follow a blurry outline for the future, full of beauty but just a bit out of focus, like a Monet landscape. I have a general direction I'd like to go in but the details are often murky.

For instance, my biggest dream in college was to spend a semester in Italy. Walking around the Florentine cobblestone streets and drinking cappuccino while contemplating the meaning of life was my vision. I was so blown away by the fact that I was going to ITALY (I just must be part Italian), that I never thought about all the traveling I could do while I was there.  It was the foam on my cappuccino, so to speak, to also explore Spain, France, and England. Now when I think back on that semester, Barcelona - with its mesmerizing architecture and vibrant streets - is as memorable and meaningful as Florence is to me.

When I got pregnant, I didn't think beyond LO. She was everything. Maybe Baby #2 is my Barcelona. But the question still remains: When?

Time

Where does it go? LO started "school" last week and I have been left pondering this question. The last two years have been enveloped in a foggy haze. A bittersweet, tender sort of hazing....full of sleepless nights, snuggles and the expansion of my heart.

Although she only goes to Pre-K two days a week for four hours, this is a monumental change in my life. For the last two years I have lost J (me) and gained LO. It was not demanded nor expected of me by P or anybody else for that matter. This full immersion into motherhood was self-imposed. It is not how I imagined it, but it was full-heartedly my choice. I always thought I would be the kind of woman who did it all; great marriage, a crazy love affair with my baby, successful career, many hobbies and charity work. All the while, maintaining an immaculate manicure and baking delicious treats regularly.

The reality looks quite different. I have managed to be (at least I think so) a good wife, a loving (bordering on obsessive) mother, a decent daughter and friend (I could step it up a notch), a formidable "housewife" (things are clean enough and homemade meals are prepared most days.) What happened to the thriving business endeavors and all that volunteering I was supposed to do? And forget about the manicure, my cuticles are as dry as this Texas drought.

When I dropped off LO on her first day of school, she rose to the occasion like a champion. She held back the tears as I waved goodbye because, for some strange reason, she is a brave almost-two year old. I have protected and nurtured her, but I wasn't aware that I had taught her courage. It probably has nothing to do with me. She may just be a natural warrior. She disconcertedly looked around the classroom at the hollering kids; her brown eyes as big as saucers. She was scared but as soon as she saw her good friend Elmo, she was ok.

I knew that she would love the experience of school. Coloring, P.E., music class, reading! She'll be in heaven with all those activities. I, on the other hand, did not have any activities planned. I was so busy packing her lunch and getting her backpack ready that I never thought about how I'd spend my time. I sat in the car (after wiping only a couple of tears) and thought "Now what?"

Although I am completely smitten with LO, do not think that I want or need to be with her every waking moment (it just works out that way sometimes). I love those precious hours when P takes her to the park or to their favorite establishment, Chuck E Cheese. I cherish the quiet grocery shopping experience, without a little voice repeating "BooBeBeeS" (blueberries) or "Banana" a million times in the produce section. There are nights when I count down the minutes to bed time, highly anticipating a bath and glass of wine. Why was this free time so hard to fill?

I did not want to go home. I made a rule that I would not use LO's school time to do housework or run errands. If she is enjoying enriching activities, I need to be also. I headed to my favorite coffee shop and sat. I did not drive-thru like I normally do with LO in tow. I read a newspaper (I'm embarrassed to admit that I haven't read a paper since I had a subscription to the LA Times over two years ago). Once I finished the entire paper - I even read the sports section - I was stumped again. I did not have a book, my laptop, or even a pen and paper!

Although I wanted so desperately to be productive, I couldn't break my rule on the first day. But I could run to the post office, put gas, hit the grocery store. All in record time because I don't have to take LO in and out of the car seat. No, I must honor my time by doing something enriching. I could shop. But I'm not a window shopper and lack of funds makes actual shopping, well, impossible. And I'm quite sure shopping isn't considered an enriching pastime. What else? Two hours in and I declared LO's first day of school a bust. On my end. I was sure she was ripping it up, finger painting or shaking some maracas.

Was I jealous that my daughter was enjoying herself while I eavesdropped on a stranger's (very boring) business call in The Coffee Bean?

The answer was yes. I was bitter that I wasn't shaking maracas with her! Then the cutest little girl skipped in with her mom. The two of them...two peas in a pod. I missed my LO. How pathetic.

I pulled myself together and moseyed across the street to a bookstore while I chatted on the phone with an old friend. I felt better.

It was time. As I walked down the hall to her classroom I heard a familiar sob. Is that LO? What happened? Poor thing. It was too much for her.

LO ran to me with big crocodile tears running down her cheeks. "Mama, Mama," she shouted. Music to my ears. I picked her up and held her tight. "Mama is here, I missed you too," I reassured her.

She then pointed at her nose and said "Hurt Nose. Hurt Nose."

What? Ms. Teena interjected, "She was hit in the nose by a book right before you got here."

So she hasn't been crying incessantly for her mother? Nope. Not one cry until the nose incident.

LO calmed down, waved bye to Ms. Teena and said "C-ya Niños."

And just like that, I realized that my daughter had a life and I had to get one too.