This baby factory has shut up shop

So I’m finished, done, finito, it’s over, that ship has sailed and I’m happy to wave it off on its voyage from the dockside. I’m referring of course to the baby making years. My name is Tara Duggan and I have completed my family.

 

This news will come as enormous shock to my nearest and dearest who I’m certain were expecting me to announce the impending arrival of another little bundle any day now.  I’ve always been crazy about babies, always craved another little bundle to love, always felt that four was the magic number.

 

When friends confirmed their pregnancies they knew that involved having me like a fly in their ear for the entire gestation period. Don’t even get me started on the underhand tactics I employed to gain access to strictly ‘parents and grandparents only’ maternity wards because I just had to be among the first to cuddle and coo at the new arrival (FYI claiming you’re there to collect a new mum who’s being discharged usually does the trick).

 

When colleagues would pop into work to show off their offspring I would sprint the entire length of the open plan office to launch myself at them and grab their little cherub from the buggy before they even got all the wheels across the threshold. The very sight of a newborn would cause a dull ache in my ovaries. I was always going to have another baby.

 

So what changed? When number three celebrated his fourth birthday it occurred to me that maybe it wouldn’t be so easy to have another go on the pregnancy rollercoaster. Could I really handle another 9 months of heartburn, an aching back and SPD? If another junior arrived would I have it in me to cope with night feeds, sleep routines, teething and nappies? The answer was a resolute and absolute yes!

 

Although I didn’t actively try to get pregnant at that point I didn’t do anything to stop it but neither did I panic when it didn’t happen. When I turned 40 a few years later I wondered if I’d now left it a little too late? No, of course not. Sure didn’t my best friend’s sister’s sister-in-law just have her third at the age of 44? Didn’t my neighbour’s cousin have her first at 42?

 

I still felt fairly certain that my boy, girl and boy would have another sibling joining them sooner or later. But then I did something that I’d been putting off for years. I got a kitten.

 

Bizzare as it sounds I’d always felt that having a pet involved more responsibility than having a family. You can always bundle the kids into the car for a daytrip up the mountains or a weekend away. Someone will always offer to mind the children but pet-sitters are harder to find. Despite my years of reservations, we opened our home to a little ginger ball of fuzz and over time I realized our family was complete.

 

She’s warm and cuddly just like a baby and admittedly there’s still poop to be cleaned up occasionally but overall she’s a lot less work than another sprog. If you’re tossing up the idea of adding to your brood can I suggest that you first consider a pet and then see how you feel.

 

I’m now at the stage that when a co-worker arrives to introduce their new bundle of joy, I’m no longer the first in line to give the baby a tour of the office. I look at parents with toddlers and thank Her on High that I’m now at the stage where I don’t have to scrape dried in Weetabix off the wall or dab puke from my jacket as I’m rushing out the door to work.

 

Maybe it’s a bit like finding ‘the one’, when you know you know, but I am now 110% content that this baby factory has shut up shop and it feels good.