I’ve been catching up on blogs this morning. A week’s worth of potty training has had my attention set elsewhere. And so, I’ve read no less than five posts about the Blogger Baby Bump Watch contest.

I’ve also cried no less than five times.

Last year, on Easter Sunday, we announced our pregnancy with LittleBrother. We figured it was a nice time to involve our families (both given and church) as they had all been praying for us in one way or another since our loss the previous summer. You know, rebirth and everything. We technically, by the rule books, should have waited four more weeks to tell anyone especially in light of that previous loss. But we were overjoyed. And right now he is asleep in his crib (?!) and we really can’t imagine life without his presence. He was meant to be a part of the FireFamily.

I am extremely grateful for my family, every last one of them. We’re unique and many people don’t understand or like aspects of our makeup. But I am a blessed Mama. I can’t deny that one. I have birthed three healthy, beautiful children. I am raising two amazingly awesome little boys. And one little Angel watches over us. I have not only the support of an amazing Husband, but our parents and grandparents are often willing to lend multiple hands. Even my own Great-Grandmother helped my Mom watch LittleBrother last weekend.

But the truth is, we won’t be having any more children. I’ve mentioned it in passing a few times in comments. I’ve tried to make light of it. I’ve made jokes. I’ve laughed it off. But as Easter weekend falls upon us and I look at everyone’s beautiful baby bumps, my heart aches.

I’ve packed away all of the maternity that I didn’t lend to my best friend (who is due within the month!). I’ve sold some of it that I knew would have some resale value. And as recently as yesterday, I began packing up too-small baby clothes for the “give away” pile. Another pile for the “keepsake pile.” (Coming home outfits, special ones.) I’ve kept a lot to wait and see what gender of child my best friend will have and I’ll probably keep the clothes on hand for awhile… but soon, …too soon… I will also let go of them.

Our reasons are many, of course, as we’ve never been people to make one-sided decisions, individually or as a family. My health, of course, is a major underlying factor. As many of my long-time, pre-this-blog readers recall, I’m not particularly great at pregnancy. It takes a toll on my kidneys and neither FireDad nor I can imagine what bedrest would be like with two parented children running around like mad. FireDad has made light-hearted jokes about this decision being one that “saves my life.” While it’s funny, it’s hauntingly true. Neither of us really want to acknowledge that truth so we just laugh. The truth isn’t always easy to accept.

And so, our strange little family as you see it is complete. I won’t get to participate in any Bump Watches. There will be no more announcing a pregnancy in creative ways. (By the way? Last week, I watched the rerun of Scrubs where Carla gets pregnant and sobbed.) No more pictures like the one above which shows my accomplishment of making it full term (taken at 36w6d, the last day of a pre-term pregnancy). Instead, I will cherish every single one of these milestones that my children will hit over the coming years. I will celebrate and laugh with them… and cry and commiserate with them as well.

And when they ask me why (whywhywhywhywhy! as kids do) FireDad and I didn’t give them another sibling under our own roof, I already know my reply. Quite simply, I wanted to be around to see them grow up, to be their Mommy. Because, even when they get under my skin, I love every moment of it.

Well, almost every moment. LittleBrother puked down my back last night. Awesome.