but I maybe was in the throes of passion.  C1D14.  I’m suddenly very panicky and nervous about the possibilities.  What is is about men and the morning?

For a second, and I won’t reveal which second, a baby seemed like a neat idea.  Cool.  Another baby.  Cute.  Little toes.  Aaaawwwww, breastfeeding again, and little sleepsacks.  Our love, all poured into another little person.

It has nothing to do with love.  In that moment, there is no thinking clearly.  God knew exactly what he did when he designed this whole process.  Otherwise, we all would have died out as a race thousands of years ago.  No one in their right mind could really, vountarily, sign up for parent hood.  It’s like saying you’d like to whip yourself with a barbed wire every day for the next 20 years.  OK, not that bad.  But on paper?  It. makes. no. sense.  It in an emotional decision.  Not logical AT ALL.

I’m not entirely to blame.  THE question was asked.  Is it a good time, or a bad time?  Well, I replied, that all depends on your perspective.   We didn’t completely ignore it. 

So, Mr. 4tops said a bit later.  I guess it’s a good time.

And I’ve had knot in my stomach ever since.  I think now I need a drink.

Oh, come on, you may think.  One time?  One time in optimum timing, and that’s if you even know your cycles are normal again.  What are the odds?  Well, I say to the cynical, and doubtful, but not to those desperately wanting a baby…those should stop reading now.

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We have 3 children.  We tried one time, on one day, for each of them.  In fact, we didn’t even really try for #2.  I thought it was "safe".   So why am I panicky now?  Because of that.  This crazy idea of maybe another baby, maybe 4, tops, could already be in play.  And I am soooo not sure this is a good idea.  In fact, I’m afraid it could be a very very not good idea. 

But I can’t decide if I’ll be more bummed if I do start my next period on time, or not.  How schitzo is that???  Maybe I’m too unstable to do this again.  

And I’m really concerned about the fact that we just got our children’s rooms all done for each of them.  First time ever they each have a room just for each child.  They’ve all shared a room all of their little lives.  And there is no more room in the house.  Where the heck would we put another person?  And how shallow of a concern is this, in light of the possibility of another person?   But I’m thinking it.  And I’m also thinking that a potential due date would be smack in the middle of the 3 weeks all the rest of us have a birthday.  And that we’ll never ever tell that potential child he/she was born then, but maybe in like, May, or June.  It’ll just be our little secret.  Me, Mr 4tops, and the other 3 children.

I am so whacked.  Why do I focus on such stupid things???  And why did I ever toss that IUD in the first place?!? 

If you are trying very hard to have a baby, don’t read further.  What follows is a selfish, angst filled, wishy-washy rant about my fears to have a 4th baby.  Not good content for someone desperately desiring their first, or another child.

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I am a BIG CHICKEN.  I’m going to have to be drunk, and in the throes of passion for another baby to happen.  Kind of like our second baby.  In my mind, I CANNOT commit.  I am afraid of being sick again.  The recovery from a fourth c-section.  Sleepless nights.  Hormone havoc.  Not being able to keep teaching the children effectively.  So therefore, dumb as stumps children.  They’ll never get a job.  Never leave our house!  They’ll be unproductive menaces to society, worshipping the likes of Kevin Ferderline and Paris Hilton.  They’ll act like that Ozborne kid.  Because I had to go and have another baby.  I’ll have a wreck of a house.  TV dinners and Happy Meals 3 times a day.  Dust bunnies that come to get us in the night.  Weeds wrapping around the house.  Creditors coming to get us for my not being able to stop yarfing long enough to pay the bills (Mr. 4tops says he’s about to take this over, but I’ve been holding on in a somewhat controlling manner).  Irritability. Lack of smiling.  Snapping at the children.  Something going wrong because I’m 35 now.  And have 3 previous sections.  Placenta Previa.  Accreta.  Abruption.  Hysterectomy.  Worse.  And worst of all, not being able to loose the weight.  Now THAT’S serious.  More stretchmarks.  Varicose veins.  Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!

In my heart, I know these things to be silly.  Panic-y.  Temproral.  My in my everyday life, they are very real.  And Mr. 4tops is too much of a gentleman to just say get over it woman, so it is somewhat in my camp to come to terms with.  

Last night we were tired.  A bit bitchy.  Tense and stretched thin.  He was a bit short with the children.  I was not so perky at his arriving home after work.  There was dinner, clean up and all the baths.  A bomb of toothpaste, water, mud and dirty clothes in the bathroom.  And the whole time, I’m thinking what if I were really nauseated right now?  Exhausted?  Too huge to get up the stairs?  To cook?  To launder?  What if I’d been up 3 times in the night and a baby was having a witching hour in the middle of this chaos?  I. CAN’T. DO. THIS!

I just dumped out my morning coffee.  It tasted weird.  And I put avocado on an english muffin with swiss cheese and tomato.  Not a typical breakfast.  Mr. 4tops gave me the could it be eyeball.  To which I say NO WAY.  Not even 72 hours since it could be possible, which it’s not because it was just 2 and 3 days post period.  No. Way.  Can’t a girl just think her coffee tastes a little weird, and put some avocado on her english muffin?  Mr. 4tops’ response?  You haven’t dumped your coffee ever, unless you had a hangover, or, were pregnant.  I’m not hungover.  And the avocado?  I love avocado, always have.  Mr 4tops?  Haven’t eaten it for breakfast since, well, I was pregnant. 

Just mere coincidences.  It can’t be yet.  It was safe.

that I’m seeing EWCM already (translation for the fertility abbreviations impaired: egg white cervical mucous, yum).

Down to light spotting already.  This means, if I’m back on a fairly normal cycle, and ovulate around day 14, we’ve got to be careful starting in about, um, in about 6 days.  Don’t sperm live for 3 days?  So day 11 is actually not safe.  Ack.  Then if I’m early ovulating, if I do at all, day 9 or 10 is not "safe".  Is there really any safe??!  And it’s common knowledge that Mr. 4tops is not a big fan of "barrier methods".  Maybe abstinence for the next month?  Maybe we’re not ready for this at all?!?

For some reason, I’m really tired right now.  And when I get tired, I start to imagine what it will be like if we are indeed able to get pregnant again.  Because when I am pregnant, I. am. a. slug.  And one cannot possibly be a slug with 3 other children to teach at home, that home to clean and everyone to help get fed and laundered, and not to mention all the rest of it.  But then, I saw A Baby Story today.  And when they lifted that baby over the sheet (a c-section, like I’ll have to have), I just knew that’s what I wanted.  That moment one more time.  Now.  How to get from here, to there.

So.  In the light of the IUD removal, I’m having a bit of, well, feminine spotting.  You know, light.  Just needed a little Lightdays.  All well and good.  Except I don’t wear undies.  Nothing kinky going on, just that I HATE thongs, and I hate the way panties bunch, and the lines, so commando just makes sense.  Until you think that the Lightdays will stay affixed to the crotch of the jeans you are wearing.  And then you’re running through the grocery with your three children, trying to make it home in time to cook the St. Patrick’s Day Irish Stew that must cook four hours, and it’s already after two, and then you feel something odd on tickling downwards on your leg.  And in the next two steps you see your pad on the floor of the grocery store, one step behind you in the Mexican and Ethnic aisle.  And, you’re not the only one in the Mexican and Ethnic aisle.  And you can’t just leave it there.  That would be disgusting.  And a violation of some health code, I’m sure.  You have to stop, in front of people looking oddly at you, and pick up the pad.  And act like it is no big deal.  You routinely drop menstrual pads out the leg of your pants.  Yeah.  No biggie.  What a beautiful memory.

Fortunately, the pad was clean.  That helped a lot.  And oh yeah.  The luck o’ Irish to ye.

The word.  PREGNANT.  PREGNANT.  The docs and nurses…so when will you try to get PREGNANT.  It’s so exciting you want to get PREGNANT.  You’ll be sure to be PREGNANT so soon.  Good luck getting PREGNANT.  Did they have to say it so loud?  Like on a megaphone.  Over a loud speaker.  As if they took lessons from Don King when he gets to preachin’.  This word.  The ‘p’ one.  The fact that I just can’t say it out loud.  And when they do, it’s. really. really. loud.  Is this a bad sign?  About my state of mind?