This isn’t a $5 t-shirt

I wrote yesterday’s post on Wednesday night while the storms were raging outside my house and in my heart and mind.

Because y’all, this “decision” is a storm for me.

I know that our family isn’t complete. Or at least I think I know that.

I also know that I’ve taken three pregnancy tests in the past two weeks and they’ve all been starkly negative and I have zero emotional reaction to that fact.

Not positive. Not negative. Nothing.

Yes, three tests. Because magically, or biologically, or whatever, I had a cycle that went longer than 19 days and is, in fact, still going. Maybe forever at this rate.

(For the record, I’m charting. It’s been 33 days. There appears to be two possible dates for ovulation, both of which coincide with…well, I took three pregnancy tests. At this point, I should be getting the lovely Lady Times any day now but I see zero indication that this is the case. Which means my body is still jacked and messing with me and maybe I didn’t actually ovulate or I’m pregnant and it’s a super-secret pregnancy that my body won’t tell me about. Not awesome stuff here, friends.)

I saw the pin that Jill posted as her first pin of the week on Pinterest (basically online crack) a few weeks ago and when I peed on that first test, I hoped for something. Some kind of reaction.

Nope. No dice. Nada. Do not pass Go, do not collect a million raging hormones.

And this whole not knowing what’s going on with my body has me in a state of confusion in my head.

I’d hope y’all know by now that I’m pretty level-headed in my assessment of situations, and incredibly cautious when the situation is huge. I’ll buy a black t-shirt for $5 knowing I already own 3 of them and not bat an eyelash, but this?

This isn’t a $5 t-shirt.

When I wrote yesterday’s post, I certainly didn’t mean it to be a judgment on ANYONE who chooses to have more children and when. My sincerest apologies if you felt in any way like I was saying people shouldn’t choose to have more children. Or have them close together. Or have them far apart. Or never. Or only have one. None of that.

I understand that for some, this decision is easy-ish. A non-decision. For me? It’s just not. And I don’t like the indecision.

(Though, again, indecision is a decision in that it’s a no until the definite yes decision is decided. Kind of like an abstention is basically a vote of no. You feel me?)

There are lots of mitigating factors at work here, the least of which is financial.

I mean, financially, we’re not princes. But we’re not paupers. Me leaving work isn’t a choice, so daycare for two would have to be paid. The difference in what we’d lose if I stopped working would be WAY greater than if we ponied up for another daycare bill each month. We could do it, but it’d be tight. Really tight.

And then there’s that whole me working and being a working mom of two thing. I know thousands or millions of women have been working moms of multiple children. And I know that of those women many of them are probably single. I know they find a way, and I know we would, too.

(And this is NOT–I repeat, NOT–a discussion about SAHM vs. WOHM. While I could write a post about how I think this decision would be an easier one for me to make if I were staying home, this is NOT that discussion.)

But y’all, despite the fact that we both work outside this house, the majority of everything having to do with Joshua’s care falls to me. I’m the one responsible for getting him to-and-from daycare. I’m with him in the evenings until Dan gets home from work. I’m with him on weekends when it’s Dan’s turn in the Saturday rotation. When he’s sick? I’m the one who stays home. Dan’s job doesn’t give him much leeway in being out for any reason. He’s at work until nearly 6:00 almost every day. Despite the fact that he’s a great and active dad when he’s here? He’s not here as often as he’d like right now so that one day down the road he can (hopefully) be here more.

The thought of me being almost solely responsible for another child scares the shit out of me. The thought of one being sick and taking a day or two off and then the other being sick and taking another day or two off just isn’t something that can be done flippantly and without consequence. My job doesn’t get done if I’m not there to do it. Students don’t learn if I’m not there to teach them.

And maybe I take my job too seriously. Maybe I care too much. While I logically know that I *could* leave in the middle of a school year, like I said in the comments on yesterday’s post–if my name is attached to something, you best believe I want it to be good. I may hate them, but there are tests that my students need to be prepared for. Tests that are out of my control. And creatively, my name is attached to that yearbook as the advisor. If something comes out, test scores, the yearbook, whatever, that the community doesn’t like? They don’t vilify the students who took the tests or created the book. It’s my name on the line.

So yes, that weighs into the consideration of not just IF we should try, but also WHEN. And I know you can’t plan when you get pregnant (well, some people can) but I can plan when we TRY, you know?

There’s so much more I want to say, like all the reasons I could see for having another baby right now. Or all the reasons for Joshua to be an only child. Those are posts for another day which will probably be written because I can’t not think about this. But I’m already over 1,000 words and it’s after midnight.

But I couldn’t have y’all thinking my post yesterday was just some stabby attempt to judge people. That’s just not my style.

Rationalist crisis, however, apparently suits me.