I’m Done Having Babies, I Think.

Ben and I were in our early twenties when we had our first child, Lexi. There wasn't a whole lot of thought that went into, but we were thrilled nonetheless. Then we had her, and as joyous as it was, the transition from childless people to people with a child felt something like transferring from one train to another while they’re still moving.

We figured we’d have another. I mean hell can freeze over, right? No, I don’t know if we really figured we’d have another. I just wrote that, because you should write things like that. Write about how motherhood changes EVERYTHING, and the world explodes with singing puppies, and rainbows are always overhead. Except it’s not like that. It’s harder than that; but in some ways better than a psychedelic world of musical house pets.

When Lexi was about six, one of our friends said to us, “I get you Groenevelts. You’re the ‘one and done’ type.” Nothing permanent had been put into place, but yeah I thought we were the type.

Then I swear to you, one morning I woke-up and thought: BABIES! Got to have me another baby! Lexi was eight when Whitney was born, and we were in our early thirties.

This time around we had the experience of first-time parenthood behind us, plus Lexi was in school all day. Ben and I would look at each other and go, “Well this is so easy, lets have us another.” Then bam, Heidi was born twenty months later.

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If you’re reading this I’m going to go ahead and make the assumption that you can add and subtract as well. I know! No fair...I didn’t tell you there’d be math.

As it turns out, three kids are way more than two kids. And I know you’re like...‘You idiot woman you should have done your math homework.’ But, we’d done the math before I got pregnant, but we got the word problems all wrong.

Word problem number one: One haggard mom must take her two babies, who are screaming like house alarms, in pain with ear infections to the pediatrician. Mom must also drop off cupcakes at her nine year old’s class at the same time. How many cupcakes does mom drop off? Answer: NONE! Mom’s pounding her forehead against the steering wheel and sobbing.

Which brings me to baby number four. Oh, I want one, I do. I want to get me one of those brand new miracles that smell like Pampers. But, time and energy dictate otherwise. And I feel very sad about the idea of not having another. Some days my ovaries really ache, and the only analgesic for that kind of pain is babysitting my five month old niece, while taking care of my three kids. Then, I’m like, oh yeah! Four is more than three!

Somewhere, in the back of my skull, there’s this little space of brain matter that thinks we could swing it. And maybe we could, and maybe we couldn’t. So, for now, I let that small amount of brain matter think whatever it’s going to think. However, I’m really relieved I held off on that lobotomy, because the other, the saner, part of my brain knows that three is probably all we can handle.

Meredith Groenevelt is the blogger behind BuenoBaby, where she writes about the highs and lows of life with her husband and three girls--and says all the things you're thinking.

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