This has been a tough week. The baby blues are back. There is no rhyme or reason and even though I know to expect this, I am knocked on my ass every time.

I move through this grief in different stages. I feel bad for different reasons at different times.

As Min man grows I am putting away toys, books and clothes. It has been very hard for me to pack away his baby onesies and jammies. I try to be practical and not keep every little thing because I don’t want to have all this stuff sitting in my attic on the chance that I get pregnant and it’s a boy. Then I decide to keep all the items that can be considered unisex. As I toil over whether navy blue shorts would ever be worn by a girl, I throw them in the “keep” pile.

As I have mentioned before if we decide to adopt internationally again, we would most likely ask for a little girl, but I also know that we would accept any child into our home. We just cannot predict the circumstances of a second adoption.

The dilemma of the unknown. The dilemma of my heart’s desire to have childREN. It is very sad for me to think that the baby books, tiny socks, first toys, and sippy cups will never be used by another child of ours.

At what point will all of these items become hand-me-downs? When will we know if we can afford another adoption? When will we release the notion of a pregnancy? When will I give all of my precious childhood dolls and collectible to my 2 beautiful nieces because I won’t have a daughter to pass them on to? These are tough questions. And, this week I really wish I did not have to ask them.

Practically speaking I have decided that by 38 I will take measures to avoid pregnancy. But then I switch my thinking. Maybe it will not be a tough decision in the future. I know I do not really need to think about this right now. But I do.

I don’t want to seem ungrateful for the amazing gift of my son. It is because of the unimaginable love I have for him that I long to have more children to love to pieces. The picture in my head of 2 or 3 little ones all playing together will not fade. No matter how many times I try to envision a different size family, my mind will not let me. I still think about buying a bigger car so the whole fam can fit comfortably- mom, dad, kids and Lucy.

My personal desire to be a mother of several children is there, probably stronger than ever because of the intense joy I receive from being a mom.

When people say the love you experience for your children is indescribable until it happens to you, they are 100 percent correct. I ask myself if every parent rolls on the ground laughing with their 2 year old. This little boy lights up my life in so many ways. When I am with him I feel young, loved, beautiful, and special. We giggle at bedtime, dance together, sing made-up songs, and revel in each other’s company. I look forward to every day with him.

What a complex predicament I am wrapped up in. The range of emotions is extensive but I choose to feel them all and not beat myself up. I do cry a lot still- birth announcements, newborn clothes, the baby carriers, prego pictures, and on…

Our local paper publishes a Babies of the Year edition. It came out 2 weeks ago. There they are, a hundred beautiful babies. I read all their names, their parents names, their siblings names and an intense sadness came over me. Maybe that is what sparked this latest spell of melancholy.

Who knows.

This too shall pass.