The magical two year gap

As I was growing up, I wanted to have 6 children.  Yep, crazy, I know.  My mom told me she had wanted a large family (she only had three children), but both she and my dad came from families with 7 children.  I loved (and still love to this day) watching the close relationship that my aunts and uncles have.  I loved having so many aunts and uncles and cousins.  I always pictured my children being 2 years apart, that just seemed like the ‘perfect’ gap between them.  Not so close so that you have two baby babies at the same time, but not so far apart that you have to feel like you’re starting all over again.

Losing my little girl in May also represented losing some of that ‘perfection’ I had set up in my mind.  Her due date was one month after my Sweetie’s birthday, so they would have been almost exactly 2 years apart.  I had hoped and expected that I could re-use things because they would have been in the same sizes for the same seasons.  It just seemed so right.  My 4th miscarriage baby would have come when my Sweetie was 15 months old (which did feel kind of soon) and my 5th miscarriage baby would have come at Sweetie’s 18 month mark (which also seemed really good to me- that baby should be here in 2 weeks).  But I really thought that there was no way I would lose my 6th baby when it was just ‘perfect’ on the timing front.

I remember talking with my OB after Sweetie was born and she asked what we were going to do about birth control and family planning.  I should have known then that there was no point in trying to plan, nothing would happen the way I wanted it to anyway.  Of course, I never went on any birth control and almost 2 years later I’m still no closer to having that second baby.  I’m so jealous of the people who get to ‘plan’ their families.  I want my turn to plan and have it work according to plan instead of grieving yet another dead baby.  Now I’ll be lucky if my Sweetie ever gets a sibling, let alone 5 more like I had hoped for as a child.  I no longer want 6 children, but I’d still really love 3 or 4.  It just makes me want to cry.  In fact, I think I’ll head off to bed and do that now.  ‘Happy’ 4th of July.