Monday, May 9, 2011

So long, sippies.

It's happened so suddenly.

Passover came, and Marc didn't buy any sippy cups to use during the holiday, when we swap out all of our usual dishes for the eight days. Max had been using "big boy cups" at school forever, but at home, he still loved his sippy cups. There were some tearful mornings, but by the end of the holiday, he'd gotten used to the new cups. And so I didn't bring back the sippy cups.

I should be thrilled. It's a milestone. Less plastic in the dishwasher. Less time spent making sure lids are closed properly. He's growing up.

But that's just it. My baby is gone. Other than his attachment to his beloved blanket, all the trappings of babyhood are behind us - diapers, pacifiers, formula, teethers, onesies. I haven't pushed to get rid of the sippies because they were the last signs of the baby and toddler that he was.

I recognize that it's really more about me than him. Max is probably my last baby. Carrying another child, both inside me and out in the real world, would likely destroy what's left of my back. That's the prevailing reason not to have another child, but I'm having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that the decision isn't really my own. I love Hannah and Max so much, and I know I have more love to give (the financial resources are another matter, but one that I'm sure we'd find a way to overcome). I'm only 33, and I just don't feel done. But I can't avoid the fact that not having another child is what is best for the children I already have, as well as for my marriage, since I'm not sure Marc wants to handle another episode of me being incapacitated with back pain to such a degree.

So I've got to put this chapter of my life behind me. No more reading up on baby gear; from now on I'll read about $1500 strollers as part of social commentary, not for just how awesome and life-changing the features might be. And I'll take every opportunity I have to hold someone else's baby, just to be close to that kind of sweetness again.

And I'll do my best to remember the sweet babies that Hannah and Max were for me.

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