Strange conversation and random thoughts

I found myself having such a strange conversation with my husband today. He was completely kidding, but he said something about "what if we decide to have four kids," and "hey, if this is another boy, maybe we should try one more time." I knew he must be kidding, and he was, but it was so strange what those comments did to my state of mind. I'm already struggling with the concept of being done having kids - not because I think I'll want more or because I'll miss having a baby around or because we would actually try again for a girl. I think it's because we'll be closing a chapter of our lives for good (assuming we do something permanent about it, which we're discussing). I'm going to be ready for that chapter to end - ready to have my body back for good, not just for a couple of years; ready to lose the weight, get in shape and stay that way. I'll be ready for our family to start growing up, moving out of diapers and naps and nursing.

I already worry a bit about how I'm going to juggle the needs and schedules of an active four-almost-five-year-old, a two year old and a newborn baby. D will have preschool 3 mornings a week and at some point we'll want to go back to having some other activities for both boys like gymnastics, toddler gym and swimming (not all at once, but those are the usual classes they like). I'll want to get back to my regular workout schedule, but suddenly I'm not only juggling two kids, but three - and this one is going to need a zillion naps, nursing sessions and who knows what else. The thought of going back to having a tiny baby again after this one - yikes.

But when he said that, it still made me pause. Hmm, what if? It took mere seconds before reality came flooding back and we both laughed - noooooooooo, we don't want four! But for a split second, I wondered if he'd been serious, could he talk me into it? Probably not, but it surprised me that there was this part of me deep down inside that didn't shout "NO!" Most of me did, but that tiny part...

Not that I'm saying I want to have another after this baby. When I was pg with G there were times that I wondered if it would be my last pregnancy. We hadn't fully decided on whether to have two or three and I spent some time exploring my feelings about whether it should be the last time. There were moments when I felt it would be ok if we only had two, if that had been my last pregnancy experience. But more often I felt that I wanted to do it again. This time not so much. I'm so grateful to be pregnant, and don't have anything to complain about, but at the same time, I'm happy that this is my last. It feels great to know that things are in motion and when this baby is here, we can move on from our trying-and-having-baby years.

It also makes me want to enjoy this experience as much as possible. I already feel like its flying by and I'm afraid I'll be too busy to notice. I'm going to wake up one day and realize I'm as big as a house and really ought to pack my hospital bag. Hopefully I can slow down enough to enjoy the ride till then.