When we were going through the dark and ugly journey of multiple miscarriages- there were several times my husband and I said, "we just can't do this again."
And through the month and years of IF, I would look back on the road behind us after month after month of TTC failed- and I would say to my husband "I don't know if I can keep doing this."
As much as I longed to be pregnant, and as beautiful as it was to finally experience it, I felt rotten, miserable, horrid for almost the full 40 weeks. And I said over and over again to anyone and everyone "I just can't do this again."
And now, now that I have smelled, and held, and kissed the chubby cheeks of Baby girl, all I can say, all I can think about is that "I want to do this all over once again."
She is 5 months old and there hasn't been a week (or day...) that has passed without me thinking to myself that I want to do this again- and soon. I want another child. I want to be pregnant again. I want to give birth again.
I never thought I'd be one of those moms that wanted children close together- but it is almost all I think about.
But I have gotten a little bit cocky, I think. I think about it, and plan for it- as if it is an absolute. And nothing is for certain in this long long road of IF.
we have two frozen babes on ice. And I am certain those emb-babies are what are contributing to my cockiness. I KNOW we have two more tries. And given we got pregnant and had a RLB with just one fresh IVF cycle, my logic assumes one of those frozen babes will be the magic ticket to number two.
But the doubt is there. the grief still bubbles slowly and quietly up. I know there are no guarantees. I know I have no control.
I dont' know how I'll handle if one of those two don't stick. I haven't begun to let it sink in that this may be the one and only in my arms. But I'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
I'm hoping come Fall, or for sure early winter, to try for #2. DH still needs some time to warm up to the idea of doing it that soon- so I am being patient to let him sit with the idea.
But one way or another- I want to do it all over again. I do. It is worth it to me the risk of more heartache. So worth it.
Navigating the ever changing road of life amidst the detours in the quest to grow our family. It has been a roller coaster of hope and despair... and so it goes.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Sunday, April 1, 2012
It is April.
It is April today. The month of March is gone. It came and went without fanfare. For the first time in 5 years, March came...and went...and I didn't even notice. It wasn't until today, as I flipped open my April calendar that I realized the significance.
There were no tears shed this March. None.
There was no grief that left me gasping for air. None.
There was no emptiness. None.
There has not been a March in the past 5 years that wasn't gut wrenching.
March 2008 we grieved the shock and devastation of our first miscarriage, March 2009 brought out second miscarriage, March 2010- the agony of more trying and waiting and nothing. March 2011- we finally saw our first heartbeat, and we cried, and held our breath to see what would come.
March 2012- came and went without a second glance, and it can only be that that emptiness is healing, and with healing comes contentness.
I know I haven't written in ages. I know I owe you a birth story and pictures. I still think of this space all the time. I don't know what to write most of the time.
I don't want to sound like having a baby is a cure all. I don't want to imply that our daughter in our arms washed away all the agonizing years of infertility and loss. I don't ever want to in any way discount that the past 5 years were absolutely gut wrenching- and I would be doing a disservice to myself and anyone who has walked that road if I were to in anyway imply that a child, and only a child heals those wounds.
But...
I never thought I would ever be able to pass through the month of March without a second glance. I always thought it would tear me apart in some way.
But it didn't. And the joy I feel being a mom surpasses anything i could have ever imagined. It is that good.
There were no tears shed this March. None.
There was no grief that left me gasping for air. None.
There was no emptiness. None.
There has not been a March in the past 5 years that wasn't gut wrenching.
March 2008 we grieved the shock and devastation of our first miscarriage, March 2009 brought out second miscarriage, March 2010- the agony of more trying and waiting and nothing. March 2011- we finally saw our first heartbeat, and we cried, and held our breath to see what would come.
March 2012- came and went without a second glance, and it can only be that that emptiness is healing, and with healing comes contentness.
I know I haven't written in ages. I know I owe you a birth story and pictures. I still think of this space all the time. I don't know what to write most of the time.
I don't want to sound like having a baby is a cure all. I don't want to imply that our daughter in our arms washed away all the agonizing years of infertility and loss. I don't ever want to in any way discount that the past 5 years were absolutely gut wrenching- and I would be doing a disservice to myself and anyone who has walked that road if I were to in anyway imply that a child, and only a child heals those wounds.
But...
I never thought I would ever be able to pass through the month of March without a second glance. I always thought it would tear me apart in some way.
But it didn't. And the joy I feel being a mom surpasses anything i could have ever imagined. It is that good.
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