So I mentioned in this post that right before I found out I was pregnant this time, I had a profound sense of peace with the size of the family I already had. The very peace, in fact, that I had been longing for, for so long while David and I disagreed about having or not having another child.
How or why did I suddenly feel so peaceful about NOT having another?
Here’s what I think happened: For whatever reason, I had a strong… biological desire to have another child. Even when I didn’t particularly WANT another (like when I thought of all the practical reasons that the three was had was PLENTY, THANK YOU VERY MUCH), I still had a… I don’t know… urge, maybe is the best way to describe it, to have another baby. Like, I LONGED for it. My arms actually ached and felt empty.
And then, sometime in December (and while we had both kind of decided that we would try for another, we were both also still feeling ambivalent about it, so our attempts in December were so pathetic that we’re both a little shocked that we actually conceived) ( and I feel so incredibly dumbfounded by our extreme luck in fertility– I have no idea why or how it’s so easy for us, especially considering that David has Type 1 diabetes, which is infamous for causing low sperm count– that I don’t even know how to express my gratitude and relief adequately) anyway, sometime in December I became pregnant.
So here we are, in December– pregnant but still totally unaware– and my body is suddenly no longer craving that next baby… because that next baby is already on board. BUT I don’t know that. So I am suddenly NOT craving another baby, and my body has a secret it’s keeping from my brain, so my brain has no option but to try to explain it without that crucial knowledge. Therefore, I am left to believe that I am at peace with not having another child… but that child is ALREADY PRESENT, in its own special (secret!) way.
Does this even make any sense? (Ha! Welcome to my brain.)
Anyway, so sum it up, I think instead of it being a case where I changed my mind too late, it’s a case where I had a sense of peace that I attributed to the wrong thing. Basically, if you have a strong sense that your family is complete, take a pregnancy test before you make any loud declarations. It’s probably a sign that you’re already knocked up.
Or, at least it was for me.
Also, each time that I’ve been pregnant– and all were “planned” and wanted– the moment I found out I was Actually No Shit Pregnant was a moment of panic. Like, I WANTED to be pregnant, but when I actually WAS, I was all “BUT! BUT! BUT…. CRAP!” This is not a lack of gratitude for the pregnancy, nor is it a lack of wanting the pregnancy… it’s more of a PANIC THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING PANIC sensation.
Additionally, people tend define certain emotions as opposites, but I’ve found that most emotions are far to complex to be truly opposite of each other. For example, one would think that “wanting a baby” and “not wanting a baby” were OPPOSITE emotions; that a person has either one or the other. However, in reality, both of those things are quite complex. I’ve found myself both wanting a baby AND not wanting a baby at the SAME TIME. As in: those emotions were not opposites AT ALL, but instead, they existed on the same parallel plane for me.
The same goes with “thinking I’m pregnant” and “being shocked to find out I’m pregnant.” I emailed Jennie to let her know that I would not be participating in the Biggest Blogging Loser because I *thought* I might be pregnant. And perhaps for an instant whilst writing that email, I DID think I was pregnant. However, I mostly believed– up until the moment that I actually found out– that I wasn’t pregnant, and that any thoughts I had about it were merely wishful thinking. Again, two opposing emotions, existing together.
I’m currently experience an especially fun mind fuck. See, I’ve been really sick this time. Really sick. Not keeping food down, canceling social plans, sleeping on the bathroom floor sick. I’ve never thrown up before during pregnancy, so this is all new territory for me. Barfing, recovering from barfing, thinking about barfing again, B-6, Zofran, red veins in my eyes from barfing so much… you get the picture. However, amidst all of it, I’ve had little pockets of time where I’ve felt better. My prevailing emotion during those times is FUCK, THE BABY DIED. In fact, in the last day or two, I’ve had a few eating experiences where the FOOD tasted… dare I say???… almost NORMAL. I have to admit to enjoying the shit out of those meals… but at the same time feeling worried.
At the very same time, I feel very confident that this pregnancy is fine; that I will deliver a baby in early September as planned. (Though writing that out makes me feel LESS confident, because SHIT, did I just JINX MYSELF???) These two emotions SHOULD be opposite, but instead they battle it out in my mind all the time, each one taking up equal head-space. The same goes with worrying about having a healthy baby. I can get myself into a REAL LATHER about all the possible health complications my baby could have… and yet at the same time I feel like everything will be fine, that my baby is and will be healthy.
It’s all very exhausting, as you know if you’ve been pregnant before.
Basically, the bottom line is, none of this– ttc, being pregnant, staying pregnant, labor, delivering a baby, or even adoption or surrogacy– NONE of it is for pussies, that’s for sure. Throw in friends that have struggled for years and years with infertility, or friends that have lost babies, and the emotions get even deeper, muddier, and more complex. There’s not much we can do, except own our own stories and ride it out, supporting each other along the way.
[P.S. Do you think Tom Cruise would lend me his at-home ultra sound machine? I would relax so much if I could just SEE this little blueberry everyday… at least until I can feel it.]