There will be no more babies...

Last week I sold Cohen's bassinet.

I have been slowly selling off Addison's baby clothes and gear for the past couple of months now and as I got down to the end, some of Cohen's stuff started making it into the mix. I don't know what it was about that bassinet that triggered the landslide of emotions but with that transaction, it really hit home...

There will be no more babies.

I realize that for some of you this may sound odd, coming from someone who loathed pregnancy, had no luck breastfeeding, got nailed with post postpartum depression, and suffers from some version of an on again, off again eating disorder. I'm not the gleaming, stay at home mom, who wants nothing more than to play peek-a-boo and fix mac-n-cheese while folding loads of laundry and juggling poopy diapers. I'm not that mom. However, that doesn't mean that I don't LOVE being a mom - that my babies aren't the highlight of my life every single day. Do I get frustrated when lunch ends up on the floor or I get spit up on as I'm walking out the door for work or when I accidentally stick my finger in POOP. Yes, as a matter of fact I do. Do I get tired for packing for a small army to run the simplest errand? Yup. Do public tantrums and consequent displays of authority make me feel like crap? You had better believe it. But regardless of all of that - the hugs, the recent squeals of delight about Santa coming (this is the first year that she 'gets it'), the coo's when Cohen snuggles in for the night... all of that makes it worth it a thousand fold.

It's not that I don't love having a threenager... because I do. Addison is hysterical - her vocabulary and timing leave us cracking up half the time and scratching our heads the rest. She has her own personality, her own opinions (that she will TOTALLY tell you about - whether you asked or not). She does silly dances when she gets excited and clings to my leg when she's sad or scared. She's FINALLY potty trained (mostly) and seeing her beam with pride after she climbs off the potty makes me so proud. She's independent enough to go out and demonstrate all the gymnastic stations in class but clingy enough that if I hide to well during hide-and-seek, she will sit down and cry because she's scared that she 'lost' me.

And Cohen... sweet Cohen, who is currently rocking out in his jungle jumper like it's going out of style... eight short months ago he came in out our lives as this tiny little bundle of boy. His foot fit along the inside of my thumb and my hand was the length of his entire body. We brought him home weighing just over 5 pounds. Now, that tiny little man has grown into a 18 pound baby who is crawling (his own version... but it counts), eating solid foods, and starting to show his own silly little personality. We are in this amazing phase where his personality is starting to show through and he is learning so much about the world every day. I adore rocking him to sleep and when he gets a fistful of my shirt (or my hair) and rubs it against his face - it melts my heart.

These two little souls are the highlight of my existence - even on the days when they frustrate me to the end of my wits. I'm lucky enough that I got 'one of each' and I'll have my own unique experiences with each of them. But they will be my only two... and while I've always said that I wanted two kids, that two kids would be perfect, yaddayaddayaada... some days I'm not sure if I'm 100% convinced. I love newborns, I love their smells, their snuggles, their tiny cries, watching them yawn, the itty bitty toes and fingers... and all of that goes by so quickly.

I hated pregnancy. But, and I'm not sure if this next statement makes me weird or not because I've never admitted it out loud to anyone, but I loved labor and delivery {in it's own way - let me explain}. All things pregnancy related were out of my control - the preterm labor, the contractions, the bed rest, the weight gain, and aches and pains and sleepless nights... and it lasted FOREVER. But once I was in labor, even though I was in agony, I was in control. I was doing something that my body was designed to do - I was bringing a LIFE into this world and while I had coaches and support - it was on me to do it. And for some reason that really meant something to me. Even in the throws of the worst contractions before my epidural and even during the exhaustion of pushing or the agony of healing afterward - I felt like that was my moment. And when I held those two perfect babies, both 19 inches and both 6lbs. 14oz. I felt like I had done the most important thing that I could ever do. I have created, protected, developed, and delivered a child. Twice.

I will never have that feeling again. Couple that with the fact that the only newborns I'll be cuddling will belong to other mamas... it stings a little bit. I know that it's what is best for our family and that we will be able to offer our kids more because there will only be two of them but I never knew what it meant to really LOVE someone with every fiber of your being until I became a mom. And I also never knew that a mother's love doesn't get 'divided' with additional children - it multiplies. I know that sounds all 'Hallmark-y' and cheesy but it's true. I remember writing about being scared that I would love Addison the same way when I had two babies to love. I love her exactly the same... and I love Cohen just as much. I feel like with each baby, my heart grew.

So, even though these are sad words for me to write, they are the right words for our family... there will be no more babies.