But...

There are many of us who've always known how many children we wanted.  Some only wanted one and then sat in a doctor's office and heard two heartbeats.  Others (like myself) wanted two but thought they would come one at a time.  Some reached their ideal number and were completely satisfied.  Others got to that number and could no longer bear the thought of being done.

When you're pregnant with twins, especially B/G twins, friends & family (and strangers in the grocery store) tell you you're done.  You assume you are.  Two is what you wanted, right?  

The following post is one I shared on my personal blog when Jude & Sloane were 19 months.  This is for all the moms who knew they were done... until they met their sweet babies and everything changed.

(Editor's note:  No, I am not pregnant! The feelings of this post are still very real but we've decided our family is complete.  :) Now someone bring me a newborn to hold.)

I don't remember when Michael and I first discussed our future children but I imagine it was fairly early in the relationship.  We dated long distance for the first year so we were on the phone a lot and talked about some pretty serious topics in a short amount of time.  

I remember telling him I thought I wanted kids.  I wasn't exactly sure but they sounded nice.  And if we had kids, I wanted two.  A boy and a girl would be fun.  And did he know I thought twins sounded great? 

When we went on road trips I always forced him to play this silly game where I'd give two choices and he had to pick one.  "Do you want to live in NYC or Portland?"  "Cats or dogs?"  "Hamburger or pizza?"  It was harmless until one day I asked, "Five kids or none?"  He said none.  And in that moment, it hit me.

I desperately wanted kids.

Fast forward a few years and we were overly blessed with exactly what I thought sounded great: boy/girl twins.

We were done.  Everyone told us we were done.  We sold all of their baby gear.  Their clothes.  My pump.  Their carseats.

However.

There is this voice in my head that keeps saying, "But..."  And when I try to pinpoint it, I end up confused and a little sad.  I look at our family and think, "What more could I want?"  I love our family of four.  I love that Jude and Sloane are healthy and happy.  I love that we can fit in our car or a restaurant booth, and if our children need us, they each have a pair of arms that would love to hold them (although we all know from experience you can hold more than one child at a time)! 

But...

The thought of being done.  It hurts.  I never knew I would love being a mom as much as I do.  It is the most rewarding, exhausting, demanding, breathtaking gift I have ever been given.  Whether you have one child or five, whether you carry them in your belly or adopt, whether they come one at a time or two... when you become a mom, everything changes.

One child at a time means you have a chance to celebrate each milestone.  While it may be bittersweet, you know in the back of your head you will revisit this milestone with his or her sibling in one year, two years, three years, etc.  For us, we get two or three weeks and then... it's over.  

I always thought I would experience two separate pregnancies.  Two separate infant stages.  Two separate kindergarten send-offs and two separate high school graduations.
I want Jude & Sloane to understand they are enough.  But I also want them to know my mixed feelings on having more kids are because of them.  They changed me.  My life is better because they are a part of it. 

So the next time you ask me if we're done and I pause, it's because I'm thinking about Jude's laugh or Sloane's hugs and I'm wondering if it's even possible to love another baby as much as we love our two.  

But...

What if it is?