Number 3

Yesterday a friend emailed "So, the question everyone wants to ask and doesn't want to - or does - are you guys planning another?"

Just in case you are all sitting there politely not asking, this was my answer:

"Right now I feel totally unready. I feel like I’m only just getting back to some semblance of me. From Jan 09 – July 10 I was pregnant (with a brief 1.5 month break mid way – ha! “break” – hardly) and I’m still breastfeeding and only just getting my figure back and and and. Yes, I sounds like a selfish little brat. I do get that. But I think that I will know when I’m ready. I've seen people who have a third and don't even stop to take a breath. Almost like the novelty has worn off and life must just continue. It makes me want to cry every time I see that. When my number 3 comes along I want to savour that little life. Treasure and cherish his or her first months and years on this earth. You know? That been said, I have no doubt that if it had to happen unplanned my heart would open right up and love that little baby immediately. But the thought of another pregnancy.... wow. scary, tiring thought."

Later that afternoon, TheBand, Tandi and I went into a shop. A little girl (presumably the owner's daughter) was sitting drawing at a table. She was very taken by Tandi (who turned on the charm of course).

"Awww she's so cute!"
"thanks"
(pauses. then wistfully) "I always wanted a little brother or sister".
"do you have older brothers or sisters?"
"No. I'm an Only Child. I would have had two younger brothers but they both died in my mom's tummy."

Sucker punch to the gut for so many reasons, and yet also my heart lifted. There was just so much that hit me in that moment.

Had anyone ever said such a thing to me before Sophia? And now it seems I hear such things all to often.

The loneliness of this little girl. Her eagerness for some interaction. Her unussualy polite manner. Her frank way of saying it as it is. The way she labelled herself as "an only child". I could almost see a giant stamp coming down and branding her as such. What a sad and lonely label for this little girl. The very first way she introduced herself. The way she defines herself. Heartbreaking.

But in the same moment, to perfect strangers she honestly and openly acknowledged her little brothers. I loved that. I would want Tandi to answer that same way. Childlike, matter-of-fact honesty. Not seeking sympathy or attention. Not fearing awkwardness. Just telling it how it is.

I told her that Tandi's older sister had died in my tummy too.

As we left, I saw a drawing on the table.
"Did you do this?"
Big proud smile and nod.
"It's really brilliant! WOW! Well done" (and I wasn't being nice. It WAS brilliant).
But as I put it down, I saw in the top corner of the picture in her childlike scrawl:
"TO: me". She spent her afternoon sitting in a shop alone besides the shop steward drawing herself pictures.

And as scared as it makes me, and as content as I am (all things considered) in my life at present, I want a little brother or sister for Tandi.