Baby Number Two :: Yes? No? Maybe So?

“So, when are you going to give your little guy a brother or sister?”

“He’d make such a good big brother!”

“You need to have a little girl. She’d be so beautiful!”

These are all such well-meaning questions and comments, and I know that the people who say these things to me only love my little family and are excited to see it grow. They love my son and are only wanting to share their love with another little baby like him; the love and care that they have for my family means the world to me.

However, these seemingly innocent questions garner (unexpected) anxiety in me, and I’m never quite sure what to say. I know what everyone would like to hear, but I’m honestly not quite sure how I want to answer. Do I want to have another child? The answer is…. I don’t know.

I always knew I wanted to be a mom. The day that I found out I was pregnant with my son, I was over the moon albeit quite surprised. After taking the first of three (again, I was surprised) pregnancy tests, that day turned into a dream come true, and before all of the wild pregnancy hormones began to kick in, I experienced absolute excitement.

My husband, who was also celebrating his forty-fifth birthday, and I went out to dinner that same evening. You could find us seated at the bar (I was enjoying my entree and mocktails) telling the waitresses, the waiters, and the couple seated next to us that we were having a baby. While it was still very early on in my pregnancy, we just couldn’t help ourselves that evening. 

However, as the days began to go by, my excitement remained, but my pregnancy began to get a little bit more difficult. Before I was pregnant, I naively thought I would be the glowing mother-to-be with my perfectly round belly, eagerly and easily preparing my baby’s future nursery. I’d attend yoga classes and continue working full-time until my water broke, just like it did in the movies …but that wasn’t my story.

Morning sickness quickly hit me like we were duking it out in a boxing ring, and I was losing. Not to mention, morning sickness is a terrible name for something that lasts all morning, noon, and well into the night.

Despite the morning sickness, I still had my OB/GYN appointments to look forward to, where I could see my sweet baby’s little face, but one of my early appointments led to the discovery that my blood pressure was elevated. I would have to go on blood pressure medication and monitored more frequently in case preeclampsia became an issue.

Not long after that, after taking the dreaded glucose test, I received a phone call from my doctor’s nurse and was told that I had gestational diabetes. I was then referred to a wonderful doctor at Lexington Medical Center who specialized in gestational diabetes. He put me on insulin that my husband injected into my arms and my legs every night, and my doctor told me that despite my new sugar cravings (I’ve never really been one for sweets until I got pregnant), I would have to adjust my diet, in order to keep my blood sugar low.

Sciatica pain then got to me, and just taking a few steps would nearly knock me over or cause so much pain that all I wanted to do was stay in bed all day.

None of this was part of my pregnancy plan.

I was supposed to be happy and excited, and out enjoying all of those special moments that are supposed to come with having a baby. But all I did was worry about the baby. I blamed myself for my difficult pregnancy and for potentially harming my baby. Of course, people tell me none of this was my fault, but I felt that it was. I began to withdraw from the world, and all I felt was low and anxious. 

My OB/GYN had plans for me to be induced due to my high blood pressure and gestational pregnancy, but life had other plans. Four weeks before my original due date, my husband and I checked my blood pressure, and it was the highest it has ever been. We ended up going to the hospital that night, and my OB/GYN (who luckily happened to be there) examined me and told me I would have to deliver the baby within the next two days. After three induction methods, two epidurals, and a few tears, my baby boy was finally here! Once I heard his first cry, tears of joy and relief began to stream down my face. 

Despite being swollen as a result of preeclampsia, and recovering from the aftereffects of delivery, I was so happy in that moment. I was in love with this little boy, and the love that I felt for him was powerful, terrifying, and something that I had never felt before. Yet I knew I needed it.

Now he is a little over nine months, and, to my surprise, my love for him has grown exponentially. I look at him and start to wonder if I should give him a sibling to go through life with and what life would look like with a second child. Would my next pregnancy be a little easier? Would it make life a little sweeter? 

Perhaps, I’m meant to have and love another wonderful child, no matter what it takes.

Maybe.

How are you feeling about the possibility of having another baby?