Deodorant Wars IV: The New Class

I Asked a Bottle of Red Wine to be My Life Coach, and Look Where It Got Me

Conclusion to Amy Takes Her Foot-in-Mouth Show On the Road: Holy awkward SHITBALLS, people. She walked by me this morning and didn't even LOOK at me. And then picked her son up EARLY this afternoon. Probably just to avoid me, because I am sure I made that much of an impression and there couldn't possibly be any other explanation, like a doctor's appointment or a vacation or...okay, there are possibly a few other explanations. But me and my mad social skillz remain suspicious. Suspicious and lonely and very glad we were both too lazy to follow-through on the cookie idea.

Over the last few weeks I've read more than a smattering of blog entries addressing the whole "are we done having babies" question. A good number of them were written by women with babies somewhere around Ezra's age. And they of course got me thinking about writing a similar entry, because I haven't had an original thought bash around my skull since at least 2004. (Unless you include the thing with the talking deodorants. Then I am a national treasure of useless creative vision.)

A few weeks after Ezra was born, I tentatively said something to Jason about the topic. Something like, "We're done, right?" And he immediately said yes, we're done.

So I asked him when, you know, he planned on calling the doctor, as per our longstanding agreement on the division of childbearing and childpreventing duties. And then he immediately said, oh, wait, I didn't mean THAT done.

Noah was going to be our only child -- a plan that lasted about five weeks or so. The whole experience was exactly like a roller coaster -- terrifying, thrilling, hard on the eardrums -- and we were already shrieking "LET'S GO DO THAT AGAIN!" before the safety bars had even been released.

And Ezra, of course, was going to be our last child. I tried to savor my pregnancy accordingly: This is the last time I'll feel a baby kicking. The last time I'll prepare a nursery. The last time I'll have the belly and the boobs and the nausea and the fat face and the weird skin and the backaches and the puking for SIX GODFORSAKEN MONTHS.

Right. So maybe I could kind of see the positives of the "no more babies" situation. At times, anyway. Plus, it was finally dawning on me that babies are actually SMALL CHILDREN. Who become slightly bigger children. And that no matter what we do or how hard we pray it to be otherwise, I am going to have to deal with a three-year-old ALL OVER AGAIN.

We're done. Right?


Last week Jason and I booked the babysitter and went out for some sushi and a movie. There was a young couple next to us with their baby girl, who was about Ezra's age. I made some kind of involuntary squawk at the sight of her adorable little cotton sundress, and Jason sighed.

"You want a girl, don't you?"

Do I want a girl? Do I really want a girl knowing how hard it is to raise one in this culture of over-sexualized Princess Dora Bratz dolls and Mean Girls and eating disorders and oh God, the INTERNET? Do I really want a girl, a teenage girl, who may end up being exactly like me, or nothing like me, but either way will be all but guaranteed to hate me for at least a few solid good years? Do I really want a girl to come along and blast me out of the comfort zone I've created as being the mother of boys?

"Yes. I think I do."

Jason sighed again and admitted that if we KNEW we'd be guaranteed a girl, he'd love to have another baby. And before I could even mention the A-word (a complicated discussion we've had many times before, for the record) (edited to add: ADOPTION, holy crap, not the other A-word), he went on. "Whatever. Even if we had another boy, I'd be so happy."

He then went on to wax rhapsodic about Ezra, sweet Ezra, the baby who at one time Jason hoped would be a daughter, but who is a son and who is exactly who he is supposed to be and who our family needed, because HOLY CRAP HE IS SO AWESOME.


Okay, so maybe we're NOT done. At least, as Jason said, not THAT done. But I am not in a rush, far from it. We have a few more years before my (admittedly already erratic) fertility clock winds down, so perhaps it's best to simply say we're not ruling it out sometime in the future, when the boys are older and a little more mature or at least capable of wiping their own butts. Perhaps, as Noah's issues become a little more understandable and a lot less of a question mark, we could adopt, thus skipping the fairly awful process of trying month after month after month to conceive. Perhaps we will rule it out later down the road, but for now, let's not rush into anything. Let's just leave everyone's anatomy as-is know...BE CAREFUL in the meantime.

Yes. Good plan!


So of course this means that I -- she of the 75-day cycles, the wildly erratic and oftentimes completely absent ovulation -- would suddenly start getting regular periods. Like clockwork! Like birth-control-pill regular, down to the HOUR. Down to the hour BEFORE, when I suddenly realize that I've been a raving bitch all day and developed a single angry large pimple right in the middle of my forehead. Of course.

See, here's the thing: When you don't ovulate, you don't get pregnant, even if you want to! And I've spent most of the past six or so years of my life wanting to get pregnant, TRYING to get pregnant, but only very rarely actually succeeding in getting pregnant. And even before that, I generally viewed my condition as a plus, a perk -- who cares about birth control! I've got your birth control RIGHT HERE! <points to barren, uncooperative womb area, ohhhhh yeah>

And here's another thing: As a relatively-inexperienced regular-period-type-of-girl, it turns out that I am also really terrible at math.

And...dates. And...calendars. And stuff. I pulled up my old fertility-charting/period-reminder program this morning and entered in some data and...oh. What? This weekend? When we...and we didn't use...and...oh. OH.


No. I don't have any big announcement to make. NO! As I scan what I've written so far I realize it totally sounds like that's what I'm leading up to, but no.

I'm just a 31-year-old mother-of-two in the midst of her Very First Pregnancy Scare, on the short end of the first Two-Week Wait where she honestly has no idea what outcome she's hoping for.


On the other hand:


I wouldn't kick another one out of bed for eating mini-waffles, you know?



AMY! OMGfortheloveofgod! I want a baby so bad! I love your blog and everything but for some reason this post just sent my babyfever over the edge!


There's a sliding scale that I had in my mind where "time since a baby has been born" and "wanting another baby" run evenly. For example: 10 weeks after baby = 10% chance of wanting another one, and so on. After baby #2, I needed a serious break. But eventually, the idea of #3 seemed not so scary anymore. #3 is two years old now (and he's awesome!) and the certainty that we are done is at 100%, though we have yet to seal the deal. Best wishes!



I'm unable to type anything else right now. And my pinky keeps reaching for the CAPS button!

You're an amazing mama, amalah. I hope for whatever it is you're hoping for come the end of your two week wait.

And BTW, my kid won't eat the ever so delicious mini-waffles. She's two months older than the adorable Ez. What gives, kid!?

Alias Mother

I'm so glad I came back to read through the rest of the comments so I could get clarification on the "A-word." I knew that couldn't possibly be what you meant, but my brain wouldn't go to adoption for some reason.

Also, I keep snorting over some imagined infertility assvice giver saying something like, "Well, I told you if you'd just RELAX..." So I had to share.



Have I told you lately that you're a master of ALL CAPS?

I find myself resentful that my general ledger reports have no such EMPATIC EMPHASIS...ES.

Congratulations AND/OR Whew!that was close!

Can't wait for updates.


That girl thing?.... good luck.
Heidi, Mother of 3 wonderful boys
Spencer (5), Campbell (2) and Bennett (supposed to be a girl, but instead the cutest little boy on the planet, 12 days)


Our first bun is still in the oven, and all I see is babies -- you mean this gets WORSE? I was so excited reading this that you may be pregnant again, so clearly that's what you should do. :)


When my twin boys were 2 1/2 we had a wild hair to try for a third one crazy drunk night. 9 months later, our now almost 5-mo old was born. Another boy. I thought I really wanted a girl, but was happy with a boy anyway, and realized that for many of the reasons you cited, boys are best (for me), who wants to raise a teenage girl in this age? I don't think I do. Occasionally I think I may still want to try for a girl someday. But then I realize I absolutely do not want FOUR children, I sometimes wonder what we were thinking adding this third one (although he is a WONDERFUL baby, so easy, so I don't think that for long) and then I slap myself and it goes away. I hope you get what you want, whatever that may be! :)


I can't help it, I was squee'ing the whole time I was reading this post. I think the world needs a Storch gal... oh, who am I kidding? You guys just have the CUTEST babies and I'm a greedy whore for more. I hope it works out whatever way is best for you guys, though. :)

LD's Mom

Fun post! My baby is the same age as Ezra. I had my first pregnancy scare about two months ago. I was freaking out at first at the prospect of having kids less than 16 mos apart, but when I found out the scare was false, I was really bummed. I guess that helps confirm true feelings...


I am both excited and terrified for you! Just this weekend, out of the blue, my husband turned to me and said, "So when are we going to have another kid?" Me:"...." Because we had said while I was pregnant that Jack would be our one and only, and then he was born and we were all OMG this is awesome and I want 100! But know...we brought him home and the SCREAMING! and the NO SLEEPING! and the ROUND THE CLOCK NURSING! and...I just don't know. And I'm 37 so, the clock is ticking and....who knows? Maybe I will be a victim of bad math too? And then I will be both excited and terrified for myself?


My parents fought the same battle for years before finally adopting. During the process, my mom went on the pill and finally ended up with the normal cycle you are talking about. As a result, my brother and sister are 10 months apart in age.

I hope you get the outcome that you are hoping for.


Usually I lurk, but I have to come out and put this one in your ear...

I have a friend who, after SIX boys and a huge, all consuming need for a baby girl,discovered that, for the fertile couple, gender specific IVF was cheaper than adoption.

One procedure later and they have their girl.

the end.


If the scare turns up dry...or know what I mean, right? Anyway, if the scare is just a scare, use to track your periods. It's friggin awesome, and I say this as someone who, for 17 years, was physically incapable of doing the math and tracking the dates of her period.


Just wanted to say that I did the exact same thing last month. Unfortunately, the timing is not good for us - job issues due to the economy and all that - so I stressed for two weeks.

I ended up not being pregnant, which was a relief, but all the thinking also helped me solidify in my head that I do want a #3 and sooner rather than later.

There are no easy answers in this situation, so I will be hoping for the best outcome for your family! Either way, it will work out fine.


Three really is the magic number. I had massive baby fever after both my first and second (both boys) were about 9 months old. We announced pregnancies at both their first birthday parties. My youngest (a girl) is two now and this is the longest I haven't been pregnant in a very. long. time. I can't imagine doing it again though. The third is really the easiest. The older two can entertain each other!


Thank you for clarifying the a-word!

And girls are great. Scary as hell to raise in this society, but so so great. I thought I wanted a boy and have been so so SO thrilled with my daughter. Especially the part where I get to buy her dresses.

Good luck!


FYI? It's that attitude that got me knocked up with our fifth child. LOL.

Good luck, whichever way you hope it goes!


You, Sir, are hillarious.


I wish you luck and damn, you two do make cute babies, but...

Adoption is easier than trying every month to conceive?

Oh, honey. No. Just, no. It is not.


Oh lordy. You should write soap opera scripts. :)

Abra Leah

Yikes, and Yeah!?


I want you to have another. If simply to live vicariously through you. Selfish, no?

Jen Ambrose

And now? The entire internet is going to be waiting in anticipation for that last drop of pee to hit the stick. Hee.

I'm really crappy at math too and totally go back and forth on the third one issue and I loved this for all those reasons and just because you are funny.

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