Up until now, there has been no real necessity to make a decision. I wasn't ovulating, therefore, no need to choose a date.
I look at this incredibly perfect and indescribably cute boy that we have created and I know with a vast amount of certainty that there is going to have to be another child in this house. And I realize that there is only one way for us to get there.
Despite maintaining a public facade of having misgivings about the issue, my mind is actually made up. There will be another child. And I think that my husband would agree on that point - but we haven't spent a lot of time discussing it. No ovulation, no need to discuss.
Naturally, I would prefer children close in age. Which implies that we shouldn't allow too many more eggs to go gently into that good night. Considering our history of "13th try's the charm", we will likely face a year or so of trying, anyway.
33 months and one successful subsequent pregnancy are having an insulating effect from the terror that I would expect to feel at the prospect of procreating again. We now need to decide when we feel that the timing would be right (and the comfort level high enough) to start walking this harrowing path yet again.
Maybe this is just the luteinizing hormone talking.