Suddenly it isn’t so clear
*I wrote this originally the day after I found out I was pregnant. And while I know that there are tons of women out there who are trying unsuccessfully to have a baby, sometimes, the women who are done having babies get certain surprises. I can’t even begin to tell you how guilty I feel, knowing I have so many friends who want to be in the situation I’m in. But also try to remember that the women who are actively trying to get pregnant want a baby out of it. They’re mentally prepared. I was not prepared for this whatsoever. But sometimes things just happen. Today, however, six weeks after I found out that I was in fact pregnant, I’m dealing with it, and I’m getting more excited each day. Today we heard the heart beat – we being myself and all three kids. Luca is the most excited, Claire of course being a close second promising to help out with the baby. Mae, well, Mae just wants cheese. This is going to be OK, but I’m not going to lie about how I initially felt. And that’s what I wrote below.
Last week when I woke up, life was great. I just had a great visit with Jessica, I had a new class added to my gym schedule, and life was just simply easy and good.
But sometimes life just doesn’t go as planned. This week, my future is fuzzy. It went from routine to I don’t know. It went from happy to why?
It’s no surprise to anyone that I am done having children. That after having three kids over four years, I was tapping out. The kids that I have are good, kind and really easy going. Why mess up a good thing, right?
I found myself in familiar territory a few days ago. It reminded me of when you go somewhere and you smell something so familiar, yet you can’t put your finger on it. I had a feeling. A familiar feeling. And I couldn’t shake it.
I entered into a long road of denial. Reminding myself that I’m done. I’m happy. That my mental well being is best left to be where it’s at.
But, I had to end that nagging fear and take a test.
The whole drive to the store, I told myself I was so stupid to take one. Why waste the money? You know what it’s going to say.
And when I got home, and saw the positive sign, I let out a few tears and made Matt verify.
I’ve compared my excitement for being pregnant to that of having my appendix burst. I’ve called myself the Duggars. I’ve cried. I’ve reasoned. I’ve cried some more.
This isn’t a blessing, and I’m not too thrilled. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to love this baby any less. I’m more or less upset at myself for letting it happen. I don’t believe in Fate or God’s will. And if someone were to tell me that, I’d probably flip out on them. It’s simply science. And it failed me.
When I woke up last week, the future seemed so clear. I was going to start to get my life back. I had three rather independent children who didn’t need me nearly as much as last year. I’ve been waiting a long time for this. For me time. For fun. For winters where I can take the kids sledding. Summers where we can go to the pool without needing ten adults. When I could actually leave my house in the afternoon. When I could actually trust a babysitter to watch my kids and not have to be tethered to either my baby or a breast pump. I was ready to be done.
I was done.
And while I strongly believe in a woman’s right to choose, I chose to tough it out. To see what possibilities this baby could have for me. Remember, I was the product of: it only takes once. I know a lot of accident babies, and they have turned out to be the best thing ever, myself included. And this baby deserves a chance at doing just that. Showing me what I showed my mom all those years ago. This baby will be loved. I just need a bit longer to get on the bandwagon.
I woke up this morning knowing that my whole life was about to change. Whether I was ready for it or not. All the hard work I have put in at the gym is going to be on hold. All the positive changes to my body are just going to have to wait. My love for teaching will be short lived. And while I know I’ll get all those things back, and I will teach until my big belly can’t teach any more, it’s just not the same.
I was done.
I’m sure this all sounds selfish. But when you’re 27, spent the last 5 years of your life being pregnant, nursing or raising small children, was tired all the time and ready for life to finally begin, you’d understand. I’m going to have four children aged five and under. I know I’m not the first. I won’t be the last. But every day is hard enough. It’s fun, it’s crazy, it’s got it’s ups and downs. But I was done.
So while I’m having a pity party, I still have that annoying happy feeling in my gut, because I know, with my whole heart, that I can do this and that this baby is going to be awesome.
I just need some time.