OK, I didn't really get pregnant at Blissdom, as there wouldn't have been time and besides, Mrs Chicken was my roommate. But that urge to have a third child was so strong my ovaries were throbbing. I literally tried to pick up every single baby who crossed my path. I think my friend Kim suspected I was going to try and take Cassidy, this munchkin, home with me. How's that for conference swag?
I am utterly and totally distracted by babies at mom blogger conferences. This despite the fact that there was much to be engaged by at Blissdom: Outstanding workshops and panels (and I'm not just saying that because I was a speaker); amazing women and yet more amazing women; performances by Chris Mann and Crystal Bowersox; much spontaneous trading of tips; plenty of random free chocolate. But then, there were the babies. Babies I cooed and gooed at and talked in a funny high-pitched voice to. Babies I was dying to hold. Babies, babies, babies.
I learned a new term at the conference: "geriatric pregnancy" (THANKS, KIM!!!), defined as a pregnancy in a woman over 35. (I know, shocker, I look 25, right? RIGHT?!). That doesn't scare me. The potential chaos of juggling three kids, one of whom has special needs, does.
Do it, my heart says. Just do it.
It's a crazy thing to do, says my brain. What if you don't have enough time for Max?
You won't regret it, says my heart.
Yes, it'll be good for Max, but did I mention life is going to get crazy? says my brain.
This is why, even though I've long been mulling it over, that should we have a third kid question remains in the air. And one of these days, I'm going to run out of time.
Look, says my heart. Just, look.
