The older woman raised her eyebrow. "Whoa. Good luck with that. I hope you're done." Her voice practically dripping with condemnation.
Back about five years ago, I was decidedly in the camp of Two and Done. And in fact, I owe an apology to mothers of larger families. I just didn't get it at that time. I couldn't understand why anyone would want to burden themselves with the costs and responsibilities of raising a brood of children. I'm ashamed to say that after I had Olivia, I frequently told people, "Well, when I'm 40, the kids will be 21 and 18. And I'll still be young enough to have a real life!"
As if raising my babies didn't count as really living. (Shakes my dang head.)
And now, since acknowledging baby IV's existence, I'm on the receiving end of the very comments I used to hurl towards "those weirdos with all the kids."
Most of the time, I just smile, nod and try to move along. But I am human. And those comments and general displeasure that people show towards my expanding waistline? It stings.