Thinking about parenthood, looking at my kids usually brings about a whole gamut of emotions. There is pride, there is joy, there is disbelief (are they really mine? Did I pop them all out). A feeling that I feel more often than not is wistfulness, especially when I look at pregnant bellies and little squishy newborns.. I know my little Songs are growing up well and happy, but part of me feels sad that it is more than likely that we won't have another little squish in our family.
While I am thoroughly happy with our little family, and I know physically, financially, pragmatically we are probably at the peak, I think there will always be a wistful thought having another bub in the house would be nice.. Ok until the hyperemesis sets in and I have to deal with sleepless nights all over again...