When we found out we were pregnant with number three; me and Rob agreed straight away that this was the last baby we’d have. I suggested that we just take early retirement from sex. We’ve had a very successful career and surely now that the breeding was finished, it was time we got our sexual P45? Funnily enough Rob wasn’t mad keen on this idea and came up with an alternative. He would get the snip.
Fine. Great! Now we’ve always been incredibly decisive people. With both the big decisions and the small minutiae of life…
‘Shall we book that holiday even though we’re totally overdrawn?’ YEAH!
‘The squeaky garden gate is getting on my nerves; shall we move house?’ YEAH!
So, when Ellis was only two weeks old, Rob went to the doctors and made the appointment. And in November, he was officially snipped. The procedure went off without a hitch. Apparently they removed a small part of a tube which Rob delightfully described as looking ‘like a bit of calamari…without the batter obviously.’
All done. Easy peasy. Another Team Hughes split-second decision ACTIONED.
The thing is; this type of split-second decision making can often go wrong. Which is fine when you just really wish you hadn’t painted a bright yellow feature wall in your sitting room…but it turns out it’s not so fine when it comes down to taking away the ability to create human life. Three months on from Robs calamari-removal; I keep hearing this nagging little voice in my ear (it’s my inner voice guys ok? Not one of the kids), asking me, did we rush into that decision…and will we regret it?
In my right, sane mind; I know that I don’t want or need another baby. My poor body couldn’t endure another pregnancy and I’d definitely end up in an asylum. But then Ellis smiles his huge dimpled grin at me and I suddenly can’t bear that this stage of our lives will be over soon! I pick him up, inhale his gorgeous baby smell and whisper ‘Don’t grow up too fast. Before I know it you’ll be a total prick just like those other two.’
Other times I see Dylan and Jonah roaring laughing together at something (usually penis related) and I feel guilty that Ellis won’t have a best bud who is close in age to him.
However, I’ve got a really effective way to curb these crazy ‘LET’S REVERSE THE VASECTOMY’ moments. I’ll let you in on it in case you’re also grappling with the notion of having another kid which you definitely do not need:
I give you, ‘More Kids Than Cash’ on Channel 5. Yep. I’ve got it recorded and every time that little voice starts up in my head. I grab a pint of wine and press play on that bad boy.
Jesus Christ. If you think my blogs are a good argument for birth control, they are nothing in comparison to that show! Really truly terrifying.
In my head having another kid would make us kind of like the Von Trapps. I’d fashion us some clothes out of curtains and we’d walk round Whitley Bay in our lederhosen singing ‘Doh a Deer’ and it would be blissful wouldn’t it!?
No no no.
‘More Kids Than Cash’ shows the reality of big families. And I find it bloody terrifying. Chaos and carnage (albeit mixed with loads of love and laughter) from dawn to dusk. By the end of watching it I feel totally calm again. We are fine as we are. We are a perfect little rabble and I know how lucky I am to be part of it.
So there we go. My womb is closed for business. Or at least Rob’s bits are closed for business. I have discussed the following possibility /daydream with him which he also wasn’t that keen on. It goes like this…
There is clearly a chance that if this blog of mine hits the big time, I will end up becoming a Loose Woman (obvs one on ITV at 12.30 weekdays, I don’t mean I’ll just become generically slutty). If that happens then it’s likely I will meet a smoking hot 26 year old cameraman with a striking resemblance to Channing Tatum who will want to be my boyfriend. Rob will of course do the honourable thing and step aside so I can crack on with Channing. Then after I’ve been with Channing for a couple of years he might decide he wants a baby and well… who am I to argue?