The most-asked question when I announced my pregnancy was some variation on why my husband changed his mind. Well, instead of speculating inside my own head, I went straight to the source. I hereby present to you the first-ever guest post on this blog, written by none other than the man, himself.

M, in his own words:

Whether to have a(nother) child is an incredibly personal decision. It’s influenced by so many things, your economic status, your own childhood, your experiences with children, and on into a list too exhaustive to iterate. So, when my wife told me that there was interest from anyone other than her on why I had changed my mind on having a third child I was a bit mystified. I’m not really sure how this very personal decision, or my thought process leading to it is relevant or useful to anyone other than me. However, since apparently someone wants to know, I’ll try and explain what led me to a change of heart.

I have one sibling, a very wonderful sister. We’ve gotten along well our whole lives. I never felt like I was missing out on anything on that front. I lived in a quiet, peaceful home as a child. Larger families seemed… chaotic. Fun to watch your friends’ from a distance perhaps, but not my comfort zone. Two kids has always seemed like the “right” number to me. It worked in all the ways a nice engineer like myself appreciates, symmetry, parent ratio, dinner seating, number of pizza slices in an average pie, whatever. Two was my magic number; preferably a boy and a girl.

Bingo. Jackpot. We lucked out on the first try. Boy / girl twins. Perfect. I’m done. Albeit with more intensity, but one cycle of spit-up, one cycle of potty training, synchronized schooling. Basically once we get past a hard part, it’s done. We don’t have to dread when child #2 is going to hit the same rough patch, just get through it once and you never have to do it again. The quintessence of efficiency. What could be better? We were agreed, twins was an awesome handful, it was all we needed.

A year and a half went by. Then the gentle pressure started. My wife wanted another chance. She wanted another child, an opportunity to put all her hard-won parenting experience to use, a bigger family. She wasn’t pushy, she wasn’t overbearing, she just… made it known. Now let me be clear here, there weren’t ultimatums, pouting, tantrums (I’m talking about the wife here, kids were doing all of that at the time), no high pressure, just very *infrequent* reminders that it was something she really wanted and that if I was going to consider it, time was limited.

I was adamant. I was a rock. We discussed and settled this long ago. Two. Done.

And then something changed. Sometime along the way my children changed. They went from rather boring babies/toddlers, to incredibly fascinating, loving, energetic *people*. They had personality, intelligence, and… guile. In short, they got a lot more interesting and I got a lot more interested in them. They transformed from being some*thing* to be loved, to being the most wonderful people in my life. And I was watching them grow up. And I was thinking that once they were past this one cycle of reading, singing, hugging, tickling, it’s done. And I realized that I wanted more of that.

Now, please don’t get me wrong. I am NOT sublime in my decision. I’m barely staving off panic on a regular basis. The mere thought of going through baby-nights again, while simultaneous caring for two 3.5-year-olds leaves me gibbering in terror. BUT. And this is a big one, I have absolute faith in my wife. Not that she’s super-mom (although I do think she is a little), but that together we’ll get through the rough parts and that the goal, another of these wonderful people is well worth far far more than a few years of sleepless suffering and a wardrobe of spit-up stained clothes. I doubt I ever would have asked for a third, but since she did, and the first two are (in my completely unbiased parental opinion) the finest examples of humanity ever spawned, how could I say no?

Guess I couldn’t.

But I’m serious now. Three is it. Done.

Respectfully,
M