I can’t feel my left shin.  Let me rephrase that, my left shin is numb.  It has been that way for four days now.  Is this the beginning? 

What is around the corner for me, having a bottle of Tums on my nightstand?  A medicine cabinet full of aspirin and liniments (because that is what you call it when you get to a certain age)?  Metamucil taking up permanent residence on the kitchen counter? 

I could be overreacting.  I could just have some back issues due to my lack of exercise and lugging a baby complete with accoutrement around for the last two and half years.  Which brings me to another thought.  Baby.

We are about to take the big step of the ol’ snippety snip.  I say we but really it is “he.”  It is a “we” issue though.  Are we at that stage now?  Are we done? 

Sometimes, that question is so easily answered.  For example, when toddler is screaming like a banshee over the fact that I ate the raisin that was stuck to the top of her raisin box when I helped her open it.  (What the hell was I thinking?  Momnesia moment.)

Other times, the answer gets murky.  That sweet little voice.   Those adorable little hands.  The way she runs up to me when I come home from an errand, all smiles and arms open wide.  “Maaaaaahhh!”  She wraps her little arms around my legs as if I’ve been gone for days. 

So I ask myself, “is this it?” 

At one point in our marriage, he decided he didn’t want any more children.  We already had two great kids.  I wasn’t so sure.  Eventually, after much grief and an embarrassing episode in my gynecologist’s office I came to terms with the fact that we were done.  I had been hanging on to one last baby item left over from my son, a hiking backpack baby carrier.  It had taken up space in the closet for seven years on the chance that it might be used once again.  One day, determined to clean and purge (in more ways than one), I took it down and decided…………………..Goodwill. 

Even though I had come to terms, it still made me a little misty when I drove up to the donation drop.  The guy accepting donations marvelled at my nice donation because, “people usually leave junk.”  The fact that someone would get use out of it and be so happy with their “bargain” comforted me.

About a month went by after I parted ways with the backpack.  I had taken my kids to Colorado to visit their grandparents and was feeling different.  Headaches, tired….I figured it was just the traveling.  A week and a half later, I found myself peeing on a stick nervous about seeing a plus materialize.

It has been a little over three years since that moment and I am happy with the outcome.  She has been a little beam of sunshine in some dark times.    

We have one last window of opportunity.  I think of the reality of it all.  The math isn’t so pretty…..in my fifties when the nest finally empties.  What kind of havoc would a pregnancy wreak on my body?  I’ve been pretty lucky so far.  Three kids and I could still wear a bikini without causing mass laughing fits.  Now I’d really have to exercise and workout.  Would it cause strain in a relationship that is just getting back on track?  I am feeling more “myself” than I have in years.  I have career ambitions again. 

Well, we do have a little time to think it over.  As I am typing this my sweet little princess is howling in protest at my son who just let the dog in (her job apparently).  Should be a no-brainer….should be.  Then again, I am “that” person who will stand in the aisle at Target for ten minutes trying to decide between “ultra soft” or “ultra strong”….wintergreen or minty fresh…..the blue with the interesting pattern or the blue with the interesting shape….*sigh*