I have a two and a half year old daughter.  Raising a toddler is challenging at times but I’m very proud of myself for surviving her babyhood.  When she was a newborn I never slept or exercised and barely had enough energy to brush my teeth or bathe.  I longed for a time I wasn’t checking her breathing every hour of the night.  People would comment on how big she was getting, as if it was a shame, but we couldn’t wait to trade in her sleep blankets for train tables and dollhouses.

I was thrilled when Samantha finally outgrew the infant stage.  She could now walk on her own and we understood what she was trying to tell us most of the time.  I thought I had licked this parenting thing.  When my husband would tell people we were going to have more kids I would smile thinking this would only happen in his dreams.  Seeing mothers with one on the way and another in the stroller depressed me almost as much as the moms with two under the age of three.

I will be forty in less than two years.  The extra weight from my last pregnancy is still jigging above the waistband of my jeans.  I am in school earning a certificate to become a drug and alcohol counselor.  Samantha is in morning preschool and soon will be going all day.  I’m finally coming up for air.  Why would I want to start over at this stage?

Something happens when your firstborn reaches the toddler years.  It no longer seems like an eternity before your child will walk or talk.  Now you are the proud owner of a tiny person. Perhaps it’s time you gave them a sibling; I mean it wasn’t that hard the first year.  This time you will sleep when the baby sleeps.  This one will be trained to nap.  You won’t co-sleep. Maybe you can finally use that boy name you tucked away.

So, today I think that I might possibly want to be a new mom for the second time.  Sure when I start my career I will be old enough to collect social security.  I may be too fragile to pick up my grandchildren.  My jean size will never be in the single digits.  Self-doubt and lack of sleep will once again rule my life.  But, I will lie and tell myself knowing what I already know will give me an advantage because I think the benefits far outweigh the negatives. And, if I’m unable to conceive, I will exercise and finally lose that extra twenty-five pounds.