Having More Kids?

A few months ago, I wrote a blog about how we felt like our family was complete and we were officially done having kids. Well, we’re not done. I changed my mind and I’m (insert: embarrassingly avoiding an form of eye-contact whatsoever) . . . just crazy.

Jarod and I loving on Ali the first day she was born.

Shortly after I thought I was done I told my ecstatic and thankful-to-be-“done” husband that I felt like our family was complete, I started taking birth control pills and we began to discuss a more permanent means of birth control. I gratefully remarked how excited I was to never have to be pregnant again as pregnancy is, hands-down, the most miserable time in my life; physically everything hurts, even things you didn’t know could hurt, and even when you know you shouldn’t be upset about something so small you’re still crying hysterically. With that said, a few weeks go by and out of nowhere, pregnant bellies start popping up everywhere and sweet, fresh-from-the-womb itty-bitty babies are born.

The rational, logical Kristine was thrown out the window and I swear, the angelic harps of Susan Boyle’s I Dreamed a Dream whirled mystically in the room, the rays of Heaven’s grace shined down upon me and God nonchalantly glanced at my stomach and immediately my uterus began to ache. I desperately wanted to be pregnant again.

Pregnant with baby Aaliyanna.

I know it’s ridiculous, I’m ridiculous, but thank goodness my wonderful husband knows all these things about me so well and even sympathizes with the chaos and craziness of my mind. He even once sympathetically remarked, “I can’t even imagine what goes on in your head,” in the nicest, most sincere, non-judging way.

Jarod’s response to my explanation that God was doing this to my uterus was pretty much what can be expected from any 27-year-old father of three that thought he was officially done procreating and works an average of over 60 hours a week: lots of yelling, fighting, crying and silent treatments. This continued until the final and worst argument occurred, which included all of the above as well as insinuating that the other person didn’t care about the other, a full-night of the silent treatment and the pissed-off “don‘t you dare touch me or even think about touching my side of the bed or I swear, I will cut you“ ohh, so wonderful night‘s rest.

A few good hours and finally some rational maturity and kindness emerged and this conversation ensued:

Jarod: Can we talk about last night?
Me: Yes.
Jarod: I’m sorry.
Me: I’m sorry, too. I love you. I love you more than the possibility of a future child and if you don’t want to have another one, we can stop.
Jarod’s response and reason #996345 why I’m so lucky to have a man like him: I know but I know how important it is to you and I wouldn’t be a good husband if we didn‘t try.”

So lucky to have him <3 (July 2010).

Can I just say how much more I fell in love with him after that? He’s kind, self-less and really wants nothing more than for me to be happy. I know every girl says their husband’s amazing but mine really is.

And now, I’m going to go make a baby with him ;)