I often entertained the thought of having a 3rd child. Usually it was during those moments when I noticed how much my boys, ages 3 and 5, have matured. My younger boy grew to be independent earlier than my elder. He walked sooner, was potty-trained earlier, rode a bike at a younger age, etc. His baby stage seemed to rush by me like a speeding train, all the memories of his infanthood a blur. I would get saddened by the thought of never rocking a warm baby to sleep or hearing the adorable babble and shrieks of delight or gazing at those amazing little fingers and toes. Then the moment would pass with me wishing that I would have taken more pictures of their hands and feet, but feeling satisfied that I was able to experience it all.
Life finally seems manageable with the kids being their ages. They are able to feed themselves, use the toilet, wash their hands, and even get dressed on their own. These wonderful accomplishments coupled with the fact that I’ll be turning the big 4-0 next year, confirmed the reality that 2 kids is enough.
Of course life throws us curve balls. There was a small window that was left open to chance. No trying this time, no trying to figure out when I was ovulating, no taking prenatal vitamins to make sure that I had adequate levels of folic acid and numerous other vitamins. Those little suckers went through that window and took advantage of opportunity, and after a few weeks, I found myself with 2 bright blue lines staring at me out of the small oval windows of a pee stick, I mean pregnancy test. Really? Uh, uh, uh… I’m speechless, dumbfounded, incredulous. I’ll try it again tomorrow. Sure enough, 10 seconds after squirting on that stick, the same positive result unveiled. I’m numb. I’m neutral. I’m unsure.
I’ve gone over several scenarios in my crazy mind. To be honest, I can’t fathom how it’s going to be. I think I haven’t swallowed the truth of it. It’s seems unreal. Unreal that if all goes well, in 7, 8, or 9 months (I have no idea when conception occurred) there will be another tiny being in our household. Surely this can’t be that difficult, there are countless others with multiple kids in their homes.
I have a history of depression that I’ve combatted with medication and a therapist over 10 years ago. I was on medication short term, less than a year. I was hoping to be able to use the tools learned in therapy to keep up with exercise and eating well so that I could stay med-free. Through the years, it’s been a struggle (depending on what was happening in my life). Seemingly I was always able to pull out of it, but I still always felt blah, just there or just here, not excited, not happy, not depressed, but just below that neutral baseline.
Finally, after really trying to wean my youngest boy, I decided to try medication again. Exercise was not helping boost my moods anymore. In fact, the joy and energy that I use to feel from exercise were no longer. I would drag myself to the gym, get through an hour, but still not feel the way that I use to. Eventually, I just didn’t want to exercise anymore.
When I got pregnant (and I did not know at that point), I was feeling really low for a few weeks. I felt so low, tired, and down that I went to my PCP to seek advice about meds. Then, a few days later, I found out that I was indeed pregnant.
These hormones are really causing bad fatigue which makes me feel down. I have very little motivation to do other than what I have to.
I feel guilty and bad saying that I don’t feel excited about this pregnancy. That I get a feeling of dread when I see a really pregnant belly because it looks uncomfortable to me, and I don’t want to be waddling around that way. I feel guilty because I know how hard it is for some couples to become pregnant, and that feeling of hopelessness and sadness those couples must feel. I don’t even go there with thoughts of labor and delivery or how I’m going to juggle work and 3 kids or the financial hardships that we are already having. Not to mention the stress on the marriage.
I am brought to tears because I know that having a child is a blessing and suppose to bring unsurpassed joy and love into your heart. I know that because I have experienced that with my beautiful boys. I just don’t feel that way right now. I’m feeling sad and lonely. I’m hoping that as 1st trimester ends in the next 3 weeks, that I will feel better. I know that I will care and love this baby just as much as my others, that I’m just letting all the other stuff get in the way of the elation that I should be feeling.
Then, I had my 1st sonogram. I got to see Baby 3, but what got me was the relief I felt, when I heard that fast-paced, strong heartbeat. Wow! What a sound, so amazing that there is life pulsing inside of me.
Although, I feel nervous as to the uncertainty of how I will do it all and how we will adjust, I’m already protecting the little, growing one. I take my vitamins faithfully, don’t take baths too hot (I love hot baths), get my veggies in, stay as active as my fatigue will let me, and keep all my OB appointments. I may not be all on board with how busy that 1st year with new baby will be, or even the bustle of life thereafter, but every child is a blessing. All will be ok, I will be ok.
