Saturday, May 18, 2013


Even though I JUST KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN, it doesn't take away from the fact that it still blows my mind.  I'm talking about the fact that as each day passes, I forget most of the mundane details of my pregnancy, labor, delivery and the immediate aftermath.  My friend had a baby on Thursday and as I was driving to the hospital to see her (thankfully, not the same hospital Owen was born at because I  probably would have had a mini breakdown) I had the most odd feeling.  I realized that I don't remember a lot about our hospital stay.  Looking back, the four days just seem like a big blur.

This is how you get sucked in to having more than one child.

While I still bear the soreness in the right side of my ribcage and back, I don't feel the intensity of the pain of pregnancy.  It's been so long (almost 3 weeks now!) since I've been sick that the memories are fading of how icky those nine months were.  I've thought so many times lately that I could probably do it again if I had to.  Do I want to do it again?

I told Adam that if he wanted to have another baby, that now was the time to "speak now or forever hold your peace" and that if we were going to go for it, I'd want to start trying soon and have "Irish twins".  When I told him this, he understandably freaked out.  Was I asking to have another baby?  Not really, but I did say that I'd do it again if it was something he really wanted.  And I do love him that much that if having a second child was something he couldn't live without, I'd be willing to do my part to make that happen.  The ensuing conversation was hilarious and we tabled the discussion for now that we're pretty sure that we're done here post-Owen.

I tried to process all of that a little more in my head and ultimately settled on this, this life we have now, is enough for me.  It's not the idea of being pregnant again or having another baby that I'm in love with, I'm grieving the loss of the experience, the anticipation.  Fridays are hard because we spent so many Friday afternoons at the doctor's offices, Adam and I together.  It was a great way to start our weekends together and at the very least we always got to hear his heartbeat and get the good news that Owen was growing well on the inside.  I miss that.  Not pregnancy itself but the excitement that surrounded it.  All of the hope, the nervous feelings, the intense love we felt for someone we hadn't even met yet.

No matter what happens, there will never be another first pregnancy or another first baby.  The experience of having a second child would be markably different.  It would be Owen coming with me to appointments, not Adam.  I would never be having that exciting/scary very first ultrasound again or the big moment of the anatomy scan of my firstborn.  Not to say it wouldn't be awesome in it's own way but what I am feeling is the desire to have some of that time back, the moments we shared together waiting for Owen to arrive.

If we ever do change our minds or if we're blessed with an unexpected second addition, I feel fully confident that there would be plenty of room in my heart to welcome another baby, another child.  Even though my heart feels a tug of sadness when I think about never being pregnant again and never having the experience, right now, all of this is enough.  Owen and Adam (and the two mangy mutts) are enough for me and my heart feels full.

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