So a few weeks back I had a dream which was clearly my subconscious trying to process the fact that I will probably never be pregnant again. I had a special response to that post from a friend and in our following email communication I started to explore my thoughts on this a little more.
The truth is I would love to be pregnant again. I would love to feel that little life growing in my again, to feel those kicks from the inside. To know that I will never be as close to anyone as you are when you have a little someone inside. I would love to breastfeed again. I would love to try parenthood to a single child, to build the kind of bond that is very challenging with two tiny babies at once.
But I totally honestly think that two kids is enough. There are two of us and two of them, we can give them proper attention and provide for them the way we want to. Another kid would seriously stretch us (both in terms of time and energy and financially. Of course if I didn’t have to work at all that might be different, but I might also go crazy. We can probably (hopefully) afford private school for them, but add another child and there is just no way (unless things changed and we all know how much things change). Most of these logical thoughts are in my head anyway, but my heart would love another child.
I read a great old post (dating back to 2006) from Melissa the other day, she says, “This is something I was never told in any of the dozens of IF books I have read: parenting after IF is such a balance between the bitter and the sweet. I’m sure that there are similar emotions that break forth for any couple when they know they are parenting their last child. But I think that people who parent after IF find themselves struggling with those transitions on the first child. Perhaps because you never know if you will get to hold another one.”
And I think that sums it up doesn’t it. While logically I probably would chose not to have another child, I feel that to some extent this is not my choice. I feel as though infertility has robbed me of actually making a decision. I mean that’s not totally true. We have no frozen embies, I never made enough eggs to freeze on any of my cycles. But we do have LOTS of frozen sperm so we could try again. But could I honestly put myself through IVF again. Not that I found it all that hard going through a cycle, but would I ever find the energy for it now when I have two little perfect people at home to spend my energies on. Could I face the emotional rollercoaster. And let’s not forget the cost of an IVF would be taking from my kids.
And anyway what does it matter, when logically I know that I already have everything I ever dreamt of. I actually wanted twins. I have a boy and I have a girl. I have two healthy well balanced and beautifully developing little toddlers. I have it all, why would I start all that emotional heartache again.
I think most of my longing for another baby is about ‘doing it right’. I know that is ridiculous and it’s not that I think I did it wrong, but I am sure I could do it better. I want to experience the birth, I still feel so robbed of the birth experience thanks to the general anaesthetic. I sold my breast pump the other day to a woman who had just given birth to her first take home baby from her 7th pregnancy. She was in the midst of that glowing wonderful space following the arrival of her long awaited baby and she told me ALL about her birth experience. And I have to say those old Infertile horrid feelings started to surface. Remember (for those of you who have graduated to parenthood) how it felt when someone told you about being pregnant? How it felt when people told you about their kids. For me that feeling was often a “can I stick my fingers in my ears and hum so I don’t have to hear this”. And hearing about this woman’s birth story felt like that. She had something I didn’t. And something I will never get to have.
And how ridiculous is all of this anyway when, did I mention that I actually have it all? And it’s about having a child not about being pregnant.