Just a few days ago I was stressing about whether I might be pregnant. Which was a tad neurotic, even for me. After all, Edible Baby is still, more or less, totally breastfed, and it was only once that we failed to use contraception.
So I should be relieved to have my first period since EB was born. What with the alternative being a third baby before the older two are out of diapers. But instead what I feel is a hole in the pit of my stomach.
Which is crazy. Jet Lag Dad and I can hardly cope with two children, let alone three. Plus, of course, the house is bursting at the seams, and we’re unlikely to be able to afford anything bigger.
So, no baby for now. Which may be shorthand for never.