The Mermaid, Around 11 months
For her first five years, she was the "ooops" baby. I got my period the day after the honeymoon, so she wasn't conceived there, but the next month the stick said there was a reason I was constantly tired. After a year and half of trying, her sister joined the family. Two pounds smaller than sis, champion sleeper, I was ready for more.
When we got married, J and I knew we'd have between 4 and 6 kids. We liked our big families. Liked the craziness, chaos, closeness that comes with multiple siblings.
But three years later, a couple rounds of fertility drugs, and two years more, we're still a little family of four. There's no obvious reason. We haven't been exhaustive in treatment, but can't afford to financially or emotionally.
Jesse's much more zen about the situation. I fight and cry, railing against God, the universe, myself. People ask if we'll have more. Sometimes I explain, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I just say "we'd like to."
Sometimes people try to reassure us that we'll have more, or encourage us to try more treatment. And though they mean well, we just don't think we will. The last stage of mourning is acceptance.
We may grow our family other ways. We may adopt or foster. I can imagine one or more of the cousins living with us at some point (someone is bound to rebel, right? or maybe they just want free room and board at the college we live by.) And there is the chance that I could get pregnant, I guess.
But if none of this happens, if it's just the four of us, we're a family. And both of those girls, though we were too young and naive to know it then, are miracles. Absolute miracles.The Monkey, also around 11 months.