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My Third-Kid Obsession

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Sola

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By Naria Halliwell

After laboring all 24 hours of my 29th birthday, I gave birth to a beautiful little girl named Talia, who, for the record, has never sat perfectly in the backseat. Her little sister followed two years and nine months later, and I was done. Done. Several months after Sofie was born, my mom's cousin came to see the new baby and casually asked, "So, when are you going to have your third?" Through my postpartum haze, I shot arrows at her with my eyes. Couldn't she see that a 30-pound-overweight, weepy version of myself with a wailing babe at my breast was not something I was planning to repeat?

Yet just hearing the question made me begin to wonder. Could I, should I, do this again?

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