(3014 bytes)

Our family of five is perfect. We play together; we laugh together; we are five peas in a pod.

My husband was my first love. We dated during high school and college. We grew up together, and taught eachother so much about love and life. In our early twenties, we went our seperate ways. I became engaged to a man from New Jersey, and traveled far away to start a life and a family.

My first love stayed in our hometown area. He began his career and became a musician. We kept in touch over the phone and through emails. He even came to my wedding. He dated several women; but he never married.

Three children later, I became frustrated with my husband's extra-marital affairs. I turned to the one person I trusted for advice and loving support...my first love. We had the best conversations during that tumultuous time in my life. Even though I was struggling to hold onto everything I had worked for to build a life and a home, he made me feel like it would be okay.

Turn the page to a year later, my three children and I moved in with my first love. My divorce was final - I was recovering from life's curveball of a failed marriage. At first, the relationship was platonic. My first love was now my roommate, and my children's best friend. I had never seen a man enjoy children so much...they hadn't seen it either.

Over time, our love had evolved into a mature and romantic relationship. The young man who introduced me to true love had resurfaced as a strong, intelligent, loving man. I still get butterflies when I think about him; and we're now approaching our forties.

We've been married for two years now. We have a complete life. The kids are growing up fast; and their stepfather and I work hard to let them know how much they are loved. We welcome their father when he visits. We hold them when they are scared or sick. We tickle them often, and until they beg us to stop. There isn't much we don't have in our lives. We are blessed.

The only piece that's missing is another baby. I am 36; he is 38. Yes, we have a full life. This man has given me and the children so much. I know there could be no better gift to him than to give him the experience of pregnancy, childbirth, and holding his own infant all night long. I'm sure he doesn't even realize what he has never felt. But he is the type of man who would truly recognize and cherish that feeling that I have only experienced three times in my life.

So I have to really consider if this is something I should do. Am I too old? Can we afford four children? Can I remain unemployed to care for another baby - when I am so close to diaper-free independence? Can my body and mind balance it all when I currently have zero spare time? There are so many important questions to ask myself.

Ultimately, I guess it's a personal decision; and I can't expect anyone to give me the answer. I do know that my first love - my last love - is a remarkable father. I also know that either way, I am the luckiest woman alive.