Before we had kids, I had visions of having three children in our family. I come from a family with three kids - I am the oldest and only girl, and I adore my two younger brothers and the strong bond that we all share, so the number three seemed natural to me.
Before we had kids, my husband had visions of one little kid. Being an only child himself, that is what seemed natural to him, I suppose - to me, it sounded lonely.
As our relationship progressed, and we actually found ourselves becoming a family, we found a compromise - we decided that we would meet in the middle and have two, and that we would talk about a third one when the time came.
Well, last summer, after Carly was born, the time had come to have that talk.
I think my husband was expecting me to really push the issue of a third child. I think that he was prepared to have to put up a very weak fight and then give in at the six or eight month mark, at which time we would casually pass in the hall and have a third baby - because we all know that is what happened the last time. And truthfully, after our girls were born, he had sort of gotten half-way on the three kids bandwagon. He loves being a dad and is so good at it, and we have seen how fast Haydie went from being a baby to thinking that she is the Queen of Everything - and he knew it was going to happen with Carly, too.
The thing is this: that "three kids" bandwagon? Yeah, I was no longer on that ride. I started to waiver as soon as I laid eyes on my precious little CarlyBug, but bringing her home and going through a rough post-partum period and the transition from one kid to two sent me hurling myself straight into a spot in the "Two and Through" camp.
There was never any question in this house how we would make our place in that club permanent - my husband always said that he was willing to take one for the team and get the good old fashioned snip-snip. He is a Renaissance man - he said, "I watched you have two babies. It was horrible. The least I can do is take a little bit of local anaesthetic and sit on my ass for a few days."
And to that I said, "Damn Skippy." LOL It is true - he witnessed me grow an eight-pound baby inside of me and then be pushed out in scenes that surely would have been Rated R for gore, language and nudity. TWICE.
We went in last Friday afternoon and he did the deed.
And let me tell you something, ladies - my husband is awesome. None of that whiny man-child business we all know that those with Y-chromosomes are prone to. He hasn't complained at all - not before, not during, not after. He declined the anti-anxiety medication they offer you before because he wasn't nervous. He did this for me, and I love him to the moon and back for it.
The Diegel Baby Farm is entering into a new phase. We are no longer in the business of making babies. We have gone into the exclusively baby RAISING phase of our lives. And it feels amazing. Don't get me wrong, it is a little bit bittersweet, especially as we get ready for Carly Kate to turn one in a couple of weeks.
But this family just feels, well, COMPLETE.
And now, as permanent members of the Two and Through Club, we buckle up for life with two feisty big girls running the show. And maybe (after the "all-clear" is handed down from the doctor, of course LOL) I can pass my husband in the hallway - maybe I'll even let him hold my hand or something. ;-)
Plus, look at what an amazing family I have. How could I ask for anything more?