Mental Cobwebs

Today is Emerson's third birthday. Most people say something like "They grow up so fast!" at this point, but to me it seems like she's always been this age. Watching someone grow day by day leaves you unable to really see what big jumps they're making. When I look back at pictures of her when she'd just turned two, I'm amazed that she looks so different than she does now. To me, she looks exactly the same.

The one thing that hasn't come about so far, is a new sibling for her. My sister is two and a half years older than me, and my brother is two and a half years older than her. Maybe when we were young that didn't make as much of a difference, but probably somewhere near middle school it started to seem like we were light years apart. Five years seemed like an eternity, and the disconnect between my brother and me was too much to overcome on a regular basis. We liked each other just fine, but we certainly couldn't relate to each other's interests with that sort of age gap, much less hang out with each other.


That's why Zoe and I always talked about getting started on our kids young, and pumping them out maybe only a year and a half apart, or at least only a little bit more than that. So the day we signed our marriage certificate, we started trying. Amazingly, Emmy was conceived on our honeymoon. It seemed like this was going to be incredibly easy. The rush of our first-born child was a brand-new experience, but one that we adapted to quickly. I soon learned what it felt like to be living for people other than yourself. I had a family, and that is the best feeling I've ever felt in the world.

More than a year ago -- when Emmy wasn't even two years old -- we decided we really had to get to work on the next kid. It had already been longer than we had originally planned for it to be, but adapting to that first child was a rollercoaster ride of emotions that we weren't necessarily expecting. So we sat down with my parents and hers, and informed them we were going to start trying for a second child. The birth control pills got shoved away somewhere in the medicine cabinet, and the next installment of our lives lie ahead.


Remember how I said Emerson was ridiculously easy? I guess that kind of spoiled us. The last year has been kind of tough, because at this point, when I think of sex, I think of the best time of the month, and the position that yields the greatest likely percentage, and a drawer filled with dollar-store pregnancy tests.

It's hard not to feel a little defeated. What once seemed like the easiest thing in the world, now seems almost impossible. Don't get me wrong, people like my cousin Alison -- who tried for years to conceive, only to have complications late in her eventual pregnancy that led to the little child she'd worked so hard to create dying after only a few days on this Earth -- are the people that have truly struggled. Eventually she was able to get pregnant again, and now has a healthy baby girl that she will no doubt treat like the blessing that she is.


So when I think about our situation, I find it hard to talk about. I feel like I'd be whining about something that isn't really that big of a deal. We already have Emerson, and she makes me happier than I ever knew I could be. Coupled with my amazing wife, I really should feel like the luckiest guy in the world. But I can't help but put my head in my hands every once in awhile and think, "Goddammit, where is the rest of our family? Why is this so hard?!"

Ultimately, if the rest of our family never comes, I'll still be the luckiest guy in the world. Zoe and Emmy transformed my life, and I would be a complete loser without them. Still, I want another baby so much.