Really, I have no idea. I could barely figure it out for myself. But this was a dire and pressing question for me last year when I wrote this piece for Sassy Mama Singapore.
My ovaries are confused. They seem to have misplaced the memo I sent them during my hours of labour to deliver Baby Two which clearly stated that they could look forward to a lovely (and permanent) vacation. Yet within a few weeks of giving birth, to my sheer horror, I was already getting the urge to have another baby and it has since grown stronger.
Please understand: these thoughts are crazy for me. I love raucous family events courtesy of my parents, two brothers, and many aunts and uncles, but I truly do not think I am cut out to raise my own large family. Noise makes me nutty, and I’m quite a grumpy cat if I don’t get enough sleep (nine hours is my magic number— i.e. impossible). Now that Baby Two is eleven months old, I am finally getting a routine going, a little freedom, and I am enjoying him and “Baby” One (now 3½ years old) very much.
This enjoyment has been hard-won. I suffer from I’m-A-Terrible-Mother Syndrome. I somehow thought it would be possible to be Martha Stewart, Nigella Lawson, and Marilyn Monroe all rolled up in a cheery little package, but alas, it seems I was wrong. I’ve spent the last three years trying to come to terms with all this and find value in the kind of mother I am. Yet there is still a little voice inside my head that says, you have no business having more children if you can’t appreciate every single second of your time with your existing children.
Click here to continue reading the piece on Sassy Mama Singapore.