Let's Just Call It What It Is

It's the middle of the night, and I can't sleep.

Spending time with family leaves me feeling so restless. I never seem to prepare myself properly: I either bow up with tension in anticipation of anything that may happen, or leave myself overly vulnerable to hurtful actions and words. In 35 years I have yet to find the proper balance. That middle ground.

Tonight, I finally admitted out loud something that has been formulating in the back of my head for three years now. One of the main reasons I do not want a third child? I am terrified to have another daughter.

One of the reasons I had to know if LittleMan was a girl or a boy was to prepare myself for the possibility that I would have two girls. I have absolutely no reference in my family for sisters who get along. My sister and I don't. My two cousins who are sisters don't. If I indeed had been pregnant with another girl, I would have needed the remaining months to seek out all the families I knew who had daughters who loved and cared for each other. To garner advice.

My sister and I have no relationship. Zero. She calls me when she needs something, and every time I believe she is changing, has grown, I am dumped back on my ass right where I started from.

I blame myself for constantly having the expectation of a relationship. She must think I am quite hot and cold. I can never nail down her mood, and she treats me with an attitude I can only describe as disposable.

She has called me when she has been depressed. She has called me when her life has been falling apart. She has called me when she has gotten herself into crazy situations and needed to know how to break the news to my parents.

She never calls to see how I am. How my children are. Just to say hello. Up until this pregnancy, I had come not to expect it. Somehow, stupidly, I thought getting remarried and having a baby would encourage some shred of sibling affection in her.

Now that she has my crib, bassinet, baby clothes and bouncer apparently there isn't all that much to discuss.

This evening, in front of me she told my cousin how she couldn't wait to go and spend Christmas with them. How wonderful it would be to have all the children together. To have all the families together.

I sat there, my face burning. My aunt must have sensed my lame attempt at a stony expression because she chimed in to say that some summer it would be great to have all the cousins and all the kids together.

Nice save.

So there it is. I am afraid to have a third child because I don't want to fight the medical community for another VBAC. I am overwhelmed with two, and it would be financial suicide to add to our brood. And rolled up into it is my complete lack of faith that I could raise sisters who do credit to the word.

Aren't family visits home a hoot?