When Robert and I decided to start a family it was always our intention to be a family of three. Our goal was one pregnancy, one baby. We struggled to get there, but after two years we were finally pregnant. I was happy, he was happy. I enjoyed my pregnancy – even if I had some stress and anxiety throughout. It was a relatively easy pregnancy all things considered. I was able to stay active during it and it wasn’t until my final week that I really starting feeling uncomfortable and was ready to not be pregnant anymore. I loved my belly, I loved feeling the baby move and I just generally loved being pregnant.
During all of this we continued to maintain that this would be our only child. Even as the OB asked me during my 39th week if we planned to have another and struggled to hide his shock when we both immediately responded “no”.
Once the baby was born, I was thrilled. Finally, here she was! The child we’d longed for and struggled so hard to conceive. But what I didn’t expect was the sadness that I experienced when I looked back at the pictures from my pregnancy in those first weeks after the baby was born. I was overcome with emotion over the fact that, in all liklihood, I would never be pregnant again. I would never have a bump again, or feel the excitement of a small human growing inside of me, or sit in the shower in the morning rubbing my belly and talking to my unborn child.
Where were these feelings coming from?! Was it simply postpartum hormones? I mean, really, I had always been on board the one and done train. I told everyone who asked that this was likely it for us. My age, Robert’s age, our fertility struggles – it was all so hard. We had no intention of walking down that path again. We had a perfectly healthy little girl to love and adore, and that was good enough.
Or was it?
Suddenly I wasn’t sure. My head and my heart were at odds with each other and it was very confusing. Correction. It is very confusing. Because I am still unsure. There is very much a part of me that still thinks we are done and our little family of three is complete. But there is a voice in my heart that continues to ask me to reconsider and really think this through while I still have the time. And so here I am, still experiencing these unexpected emotions. Five months postpartum and no closer to answering any of the questions that I now have; no longer confident that one and done is the right decision for us.
I am amazed at how one tiny person who can’t communicate in words can speak so strongly to your heart. I wish I had the ability to peek into the future and see my life in ten years. To know if I was making the right decisions. But I don’t. Which means that I am going to be doing some serious soul searching during the next few months and hoping that at the end I find some clarity. To know I’m making a decision with both my head and my heart that I am comfortable with, because I don’t want to look bak at this moment in ten years and regret that I didn’t listen when my heart spoke.