Madness

She was mad. And frustrated once again.
She was opening up herself for criticism and the misunderstanding that she was perhaps ungrateful for all that she had been blessed with. Not the case. The frustration with her pathetic inability to make a decision based on various factors had her climbing the walls.


The need to acknowledge her feelings and write them down was felt when a sensitive nerve of the decision about having another child was pricked and raised one night.


"Do you really want to go through that again?"
He asked the question over a dinner of chicken vienna hot dogs and sweet mealies.
He was referring the whole luxurious state hospital experience.
He'd been reading the spreadsheet of hospital fees from various private hospitals she'd contacted for maternity costs, just to get an idea of what a birth would cost them outside of a state hospital and to do some research on various health insurance. They still had to pick their collective jaws up off the floor.


But that wasn't the core of her mad-ness. Or at least she supposed it was part of it, she mused.


She was mad that the decision to have a baby was, at that moment, directly linked to how healthy their bank balance was. That the gift of giving their son a sibling and themselves another child seemed to hinge on how much money they had, or rather, more accurately, how little they seemed to have.


She was mad that their business was still in its fledgling stage, and despite working back- breakingly hard, it was unable, at that stage, to provide enough of the stability they needed.

She was mad that she couldn't stretch her own salary sufficiently to cover all their monthly costs and give him the chance to build up their business capitol.

She was mad that she was too tired in the evenings to sit down and take on a larger freelancing load.

She was mad that she was not younger and could afford to wait a few more years for things to improve a little. Nearing her roaring (or was it raging?) forties her baby-making time was running out and her depleting eggs were heading ever closer to their expiration date. Hell, did she even have any left?


She was mad that so many more mundane things had to take priority over this big decision. 
Fixing her aging car, trying to play catch up on all their bills that just never seemed to want to be caught and killed, monthly necessities like school fees, utilities and a mortgage - all these stupid things seemed to be take precedence over being able to add another little person to their clan.


She was mad that she felt guilted into considering how others would possibly react to their "happy news".


She was mad that, if it were to happen, some of the people closest to them would throw up their hands, raise their eyebrows and whisper their concern to the others closest. "Why have another child when they can't even keep up with all their costs now!?" That made her particularly mad , and incredibly frustrated, so much so that she could weep.
Because she understood their concern.
Because it was what she also got anxious about.


And it wasn't that the family wouldn't welcome another itty bitty clan member, quite the opposite. It was just that these people had already helped them so much already and she would be mad with herself if she ever put them in a position that they felt they needed to step in and help her out yet again. 


She was madly frustrated when people encouragingly said "oh you will never have enough money so just go ahead and do it". That's all very well and brave but she's living in a very real world where diapers and daycare and formula don't grow on trees and {surprise!} cost real money. 


She understood that the world was experiencing hardships everywhere today, nearly everyone was struggling and her financial issues were probably just like a million others, nothing special.


But a decision to try for another baby was very special to her. As it should be.


She was mad because she felt they needed to make this decision soon and she hated being rushed.

She was mad because she is aware that tomorrow might find them in not such a bad place as today's but the decision has to be made now, a decision that would affect them always.

She was so mad because she was so frustratingly confused. That was the crux of her emotion.


And then she went into her toddler son's room later that night to check on him before taking herself to bed. Bending down, she kissed his forehead and breathed in the warm smell of sweet baby sweat. She gazed at his red lips pouting in sleep, dreaming of bananas in pyjamas and bold pirates, his arms flung across the pillows in complete abandon. And she knew she wanted a whole lot more of that.


Because - at the risk of sounding like a Visa card commercial - .... it was priceless. Beyond measure, invaluable.


And she was afraid that if she gave up the hopeful chance to have that all once again she would, indeed, be mad.