I commented a little over at Pinwheels about big brothers/little sisters. I'm wondering how many of us Special Needs Mamas still felt the baby bug after having our special-er little one. In the midst of all the worry, concern, grieving for the perfect baby you thought you'd have, maybe even grieving for the birth that you wanted to experience, wondering if the older members of your family will accept and love your new one despite his differences, and the exhaustion is there time for being baby crazy for more children?
I have wanted 3 kids for as long as I have wanted kids. I'm 43 years old and I mean since 2002 (6 years), the year my husband proposed. I figured I wasn't too old to have kids but that we'd have to get moving on it as soon as the giant huge wedding happened. My husband would joke about wanting 5 kids, but I told him I could probably only manage 3 pregnancies in the time I had left so he'd better make 2 of those twins. Somehow, in that banter and joking it got set in my head that we would have 3 to make a family of 5. I just cannot shake that.
So we had The Biscuit right away and I think of him as a celebration of our wedding, though he was a little bit later than a honeymoon baby. We had The Cupcake in a celebration of finally getting to act like a family and take The Biscuit on vacation to my family's cabin in Montana. It was exhilarating, fun, and what we should have been able to do the year before, but the pediatric cardiologist said 4 hours away from the nearest hospital was unacceptable.
On the way home that year we drove home a totally different way than we had ever gone and passed through Logan, Utah. We stayed at a beautiful Hampton Inn, bought some flip-flops for me at a Wal-Mart (I place I only shop at on vacation through no great plan, that's just how it works out), and were excited that the only Starbucks was right across the street and had Grand Opening signs up. Turns out they were opening the next week, so no hot chocolates for us, but we still left Logan with a nice feeling. A feeling that for me has turned into baby #3. NOT THAT I'M PREGNANT. BECAUSE I AM NOT PREGNANT. I just know that somewhere out there Logan is waiting for us and someday Logan will be my third child. I know this with every looney cell in my looney body. I am totally open to the idea that by the time we are ready I'll be too old and Logan will come to our family by adoption. But I completely believe that he (or she) will come.
So, for now, I'm kinda perma-baby crazy. In a very specific way. And The Biscuit's special needs do play a part in it. It's guilt for what The Cupcake may need to do when we are gone. She may have to shoulder the responsibility for caring for him. And if Logan does join our family then she will have someone to share that responsibilty with. Otherwise it's all.on.her.
Duh-duh-duh! [/ominous music] Mommy guilt sucks.
I took the time to sit down and write this out tonight while making dinner (late, again) because The Cupcake came to the gate between their playroom and the kitchen and asked for some milk, by telling me her cup was "T" (empty). As soon as I took it and seemed satisfied with her signing MORE PLEASE she ran off and got her brother's empty cup and brought it to me too. So here we are. She's not even 2 years old and it seems to just be a part of her to help. She has Eldest Daughter syndrome, and there's not a darn thing I can do about it. Lucky Logan.