It took so very long for me to get okay with even the idea of having another child after our first postpartum experience that I truly believed I would just never get "there". And then? I started having moments of more than just wanting for my son to have a sibling, but rather yearning occasionally for another child myself. First it was finding that "cute" maternity store and thinking about how I actually enjoyed the simplicity of dressing and accessorizing myself while pregnant because of the limited choices in my closet. Then it was the walking past the newborn section at Target and seeing the baby clothes and gear and finding them interesting rather than nauseating. Then it was admitting to my husband that I was having those thoughts and feelings. Next, I shared it with some friends who knew me really well and had walked the journey with me the first time. This was important to me because when I wasn't well my lens was foggy and out of focus. But, they were there and theirs was clear. I needed them to tell me the truth. Do you think I can do this again? Do you think I can prevent getting so sick this time? And, the most important question..."WILL YOU WALK THIS JOURNEY WITH ME IF I DO GET SICK AGAIN?" I needed to know that those people who held me, literally and figuratively, would do so again if needed. I couldn't have done it without them then and I knew I wouldn't be able to another time, either.
Clearly you know the answer to the above questions, so we'll fast forward a bit...
Several months later I talked with my OBGYN about my concerns and while he wasn't an expert (and still isn't, though I have to give him huge credit for all he has done to better educate himself and care for his patients recently by reading what I share with him and making the EPDS standard practice in his office now), he assured me that he, too, would walk the journey with me and do all he could to support me and help me make choices that would assist the process. He also promised to consider my preferences as they related to pregnancy, childbirth and the postpartum period, no matter how unusual, alternative or unorthodox they were.
And then we moved forward. I had my IUD removed. And I was scared. Not in the "Holy crap, put that thing back in RIGHT NOW" way, but in the "Wow! This is a really important and life-changing decision" way. And, then, and now, I believe this is a healthy way to feel.
Four months later, after taking a yoga class on one of M's rare days off, I realized I was feeling a bit unusual. Since I had two tests already in the medicine cabinet I figured I would take one just to rule that out. Sure, it hadn't happened that quickly this time. M lay on the bed, dozing off, while I sneaked into the bathroom just a few feet away from him to secretly pee on a stick. I couldn't believe my eyes when the words "pregnant" appeared. It wasn't a faint line, it wasn't a questionable plus sign, but the word, in bold pink letters, staring right back at me. I capped the test, stomped out into the bedroom and placed it so close to M's face that he couldn't even read it. But, he knew. "Really?", he asked. "Are you sure?", he said. The exact. same. response. he had had almost four years prior. He never seems to believe I am pregnant until we have an ultrasound, but that's a story for another day.
And, there you have it. The story of how we decided to have another baby and how God blessed us with a quick conception. That, my friends, was the easy part. The rest? Well, it's a blessing, too...but a lot more complicated.
The following month, now October 2010, I was in Pittsburgh, eleven weeks pregnant, at the Postpartum Support International/Marce Society Conference. The first day I attended was to participate in the PSI training so that I would have the same training and accurate information as all my other colleagues who had received this training. As I sat in the conference room of the hotel, during several of our 30 minute breaks, I made a list on a tattered piece of legal pad paper. That list I carried with me for my entire pregnancy. When I got home from the hospital with little four day old L2, I sat it on the coffee table and read and re-read it. Then, a few weeks ago, I organized my office area and filing system and put it in a folder marked "L2". This morning, I flipped through the hundred or so pieces of paper in that folder that contains dozens of hospital bills, hearing test results, information about newborn care, etc. and found that one precious sheet. Now, it sits right in front of me, preparing to serve me, probably for the last time, as I share its contents with you.
Because this post is already so long, I have decided to make it a two-part series. Consider this the background or "Foreward" to the more important chapter.
Thanks to
Grace you are reading this post, as I have been wanting to write it for so long, but simply couldn't find the time or energy. Knowing that she is preparing for her precious baby boy #2 gave me the motivation.