My prenatals came in the mail yesterday. My heart raced as I opened the box, as if some magical potion was locked deep beneath the cap. Nope, just pills.
My acupuncturist recommended this kind. Apparently, my body needs more of this and less of something else to feel better. My body is literally allergic to my baby. I am not sure a pill can fix this, but I’ll give it a try.
I guess I should have prefaced this post with “I’m not pregnant yet” in large neon letters. Sorry about that. Nope, not even trying yet. There’s major planning that needs to happen before I can even think about becoming pregnant again.
There is so much weighing on me this time around, more so than the last, it seems. My last pregnancy was far worse than the first, which seems hard to believe.
I run a preschool out of my home. I’m the only teacher in a class of 8 children. I am responsible for 20 families and their care. I take this seriously and know that for a good few months, I won’t be able to teach them. I need to find someone who will love my kids as much as I do and maintain a level of care that has brought me to this point. I get it. No one can be me. I know this. But it’s my business, my baby, if you will, and I really need whoever steps in to my shoes, to do a good job. This is probably my biggest worry, if I’m being honest.
I know I’ll get sick. I anticipate hours of hospital treatments, bed rest, medical exams, illness. I know what it feels like to starve, to go days without food or drink. To feel the wasting of my muscles, weakness in my bones and depression set in. But I fear what will happen outside of myself. What life will look like while I am trying to create it.
For many, it will make no sense. Why risk my health, knowing what may happen again if we try? It really is “we” instead of ‘I’ because it will be my husband and child who bare the brunt of my absence. My sweet girl, who is so close to me, will not be able to touch me or lay with me as she is so accustomed to. I will miss out on so many moments, all for the chance to have another. To give her a sibling. To love another precious baby from my womb.
I ache. I ache to have another child. I have tried again and again to squelch the feeling inside of me that yearns for a healthy pregnancy, to hold out hope that it may be different. What if I can’t do it this time? What if the baby leaves us again? So many questions, so few answers. So much planning, almost in vain. What is that saying about making plans and God laughing?
Love is greater than all these things. The fear, the anguish, the pain, the loss. Love is what keeps hope alive. I still have hope. I only have control of what I can do to prepare, and even that is very little. But, I will try. We will try.
Maybe there will be magic under the cap this time. Maybe the acupuncture will work. Maybe eating raw will mean the difference. The prenatals, the planning, the finding the perfect teacher (I know she’s out there…), the honesty, the asking for help. The fact that this might be it….and that we tried.
I cried last night, thinking about all of it. My to-do list seems endless. I often find myself thinking about how much easier life would be, if I could just have a ‘normal’ pregnancy. But then, I look at my daughter and I don’t allow myself to go there. I realize all of the work created a master piece. I met the love of my life at the end of a tumultuous journey. Perhaps, I will do it again.
Perhaps only by giving in and letting go, are we able to find what we seek.
Maybe this time. I hope.