Baby Number #2? At Least For Now, No Thanks.

Dear Malin Reese,

Want to know a nitty gritty truth? You were the happiest of accidents. Scratch that. You eventually became the happiest of accidents.

I’ll tell you a story about the day we found out you existed.It was Memorial Day Weekend, right before your Mom’s 28th birthday. We had plans to meet the family at The Valley Ho in Scottsdale for Brunch and Mimosas. Your Mom really likes Mimosas and was planning on having more than one of them. By the way, in her heyday, your Mom could drink me under the table. Yes, Daddy is a boyish lightweight. Anyways, because she knew she was going to partake and knew there was just a sliver of a chance she could be pregnant(complicated birth control scenario mixed with Daddy’s suave charms. I’ll leave it that.) she decided to take a pregnancy test for peace of mind. I had just finished walking the dogs when I heard a loud “OH MY GOD!” from our bedroom. I rushed back there to check on your Mom to find her holding the pregnancy test, yelling “OH MY GOD!” over and over again. I looked down at the positive line and went into a semi state of shock myself. I proceeded to awkwardly pat your Mom on the back like we were barely acquaintances and kept telling her “It’s going to be okay”, which sounded more like a question than a statement. Your Mom quickly went from yelling, to hyperventilating and then just as quickly to maniacal laughter. This mad array of emotions was a little frightening for me but didn’t stop me from more awkward patting. After a few minutes, she took another test. Positive. We gathered our wits and headed to brunch, labored through a mimosa-less meal and then got back in the car to head home. On the way back, your Mom insisted we stop at Target so she could buy a new box of pregnancy tests because, you know, what if the last batch was faulty? Turns out if you take a pregnancy test in Target and you’re pregnant, the answer is still… Positive.

As of today, I can’t say with certainty that you’ll ever have a brother or sister. It’s been a discussion lately in our household, prompted by the casual question from friends, family and co-workers. “So when are you guys having another baby?” I get it. You’ve been a perfect baby for us. You sleep through the night, you aren’t unreasonable with the size, trajectory and frequency of your poop and you are so damn pleasant to be around nearly all of the time. Why wouldn’t we want to add another one of you to the collection? First, and I’m well aware that this is irrational, your Mom and I are certain that if and when we do have a second kid, he or she is going to be the devil spawn. There’s no way the Universe is going to let us get away with having two polished, cerebral little beings. Second, each time that question is asked, I mentally recoil just from the thought of introducing a new mixed baby member to our family tree. Like your mom, I respond politely saying that we are content for now, enjoying being in the moment with you. This answer isn’t untrue but it also doesn’t tell the full story. Another nitty gritty truth is that you consume our lives in a beautiful, gratifying, time-sucking sort of way. You are my first thought when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think about when my head hits the pillow. I love that you are the center of our world. Which keeps leading me back to this question; Why would we want to change that? If and when we decide to have another baby, we want it to be on our terms, mentally prepared and energized by the thought of bringing another baby into this world.

I’ve mentioned before that Aunt Anna and Aunt Brittany are two of my best friends. The personal gains in my development as a human being from having them in my life can’t be overstated. I’m also not oblivious to the population of single child shitheads making their way through the world. Some of the most self-absorbed and emotionally unstable people I’ve known in my life don’t have siblings. There are plenty of arguments in favor of making more babies. I do hope your Mom and I get to the point where the head and the heart match up because I know that you will be an amazing big sister given the opportunity. If it never happens though, we will pay for your counseling sessions through your 30th birthday.

Love,

Dad