I've been debating this post for a while - short and punchy, long and rambling? But as usual there's just too much to say for the brief one liner. Dramatic maybe, but hardly a reflection of my life.
So here goes, we're having another baby.
Following our miscarriage earlier this year, the last 13 weeks have been hard. Hard to tell people, hard to be excited or confident, hard to conceal terrible morning sickness, hard to pretend like nothing is happening. Hard to have your hopes and fears on the line every moment of every day. Once you have lost a baby it is difficult to stop being ever vigilant for the signs of doom.
And more than that there has been many a dark day in the last four years where I felt I might never be able to do this again. The unfathomable love I feel for Amy and the bottomless joy she gives to me are counterbalanced by a still lingering sense of loss about my pre-child life, and the memory of 2 years of chronic sleep deprivation fills me with dread.
But life is funny the way it can let you choose to do something which, on the face of it, just isn't in your best interests. It takes a tremendous amount out of you to have a child and I really so clearly remember being so unhappy and so tired for so long and yet here I am going back for more. And not in some willy nilly throw caution to the wind kind of way. I have made my cold clinical examination of the facts, I have analysed the data and theorised. I've had a good long while to think it through and still, I've chosen this.
I have been greatly comforted by the posts of other bloggers who like me didn't experience motherhood the first time round as all beer and skittles, but have still decided to go back for more. In particular Claire's first post after the birth of her second daughter Lily, was really lovely.
When she wrote:
"There are absolutely no regrets! I haven't once contemplated spontaneously running away down the street and jumping on a bus to Chadstone (and beyond, the world) when I go out to put nappies in the trash. I remember feeling that way many, many times in 2002 and I was expecting to again. But no! Such a relief!"
I felt her relief as mine. I so remember that feeling of wanting to run, of wanting so much for things to be different than they were, of wanting to go and find me again. And because Claire has always been brave and honest enough to talk clearly about the struggles of parenthood alongside it's gifts, her promise that things might be different this time has been hugely valuable.
And Alison whose blog has similarly dared to tell it like it is when it comes to being pregnant and a parent has gone back for more too, so it can't be all bad. There's hope that the wonder, the joy, the miracle of new life might be experienced without the crushing weight of fear, of sadness, of exhaustion so overwhelming it obliterates all life.
So really I am very happy, I am full of hope, I am excited. I'm also terrified, anxious and full of doubt. Life continues on.