Three's the Harm?

Visited my gyno this week. I always manage to forget my little medical issue until I do - if I have a third child, will he have to literally cut through bone to get to him? The X-rays I did earlier this year showed nothing. Except he's been there personally and knows I have some kind of calcification going on. It's enough to make him wonder if he'd need a bone expert with him should we go for #3. (Oh, in case you don't know. I get c-sections, thus the cutting.)

"I'd want to be prepared so I think I'd want you to do a cat scan, if you think you want to have another baby."

"uh, yeah. I'll get back to you on that."

Deliberately planning to have a child is no easy decision. Money, time, space, age and lack of energy come into play. Mr. T won't get off the fence and I can't seem to either. So I remain hopeful that God will override man's medical marvels and, if it's meant to be, Baby 3 - to be here known as The Baby - will come of his own accord, or God's.

In the meanwhile, I have my now 1-month-old nephew I can look at daily and wish I could hold. I can spend money on him if I choose and I don't lose energy doing it either. Plus, the distance actually keeps that baby bell from ringing because there is no physical contact to make me get off the fence one way or the other.

"But you keep talking about it, Monica."

You don't think I notice that? I don't know what to tell ya. The story continues.