7 years ago a group of our friends started getting pregnant. Some of them had kids already, others were on pregnancy #1 and as our wedding day rolled past my ovaries began to ache. I wanted a baby. It wasn’t in our plans to have a baby right away but none the less, one day I wanted a baby.
Then there was the having the stomach flu two days before our wedding, me barfing up a few birth control pills and them being totally ineffective if they’re being flushed down the toilet in a slurry of last nights dinner. Before we knew it certain things were missing, I was peeing on 8 sticks and we were having a baby!
It was a crazy, it was unplanned (which when you’re a Type A list making planner can cause hyperventilation in great magnitudes) and we were over the moon. 10ish months, a whole lot of hospital stays, pain and junk food later and we had a beautiful, healthy baby girl.
The next year was kind of a blur of sleepless nights, moving, snuggles, gross amounts of oozing poop and triple that many giggles and joy. Not long after Bethany turned one the ol’ ovaries kicked in again.
As I watched her run around the playground and start learning how to speak I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have to of them. To long for the smell of a (freshly washed) new baby, the snuggles, the coos and all the wonder.
We talked about it, planned slightly better for it, I said “baby”, Corey said ok, 7 sticks and TADA – we were pregnant!
It was another crazy pregnancy. This time I had pain that surpassed what I’d suffered through the first time, but this time I had a little girl to take care of, there was no laying around. We had worries of placenta previa, there was concerns my uterus would rupture during birth, it was scary and hard. Then there was all the regular pregnancy stuff, and the fact that this pregnancy left me with little to no appetite. It was hard and as they set an early induction date, (because everyone was concerned what would happen if I went right to end), Corey made it clear he figured we were done.
Heck, at that point I was done. I’d written Audrey her eviction notice, it was time to vacate the premises and for me to never be pregos again. Thankfully I went into labour the night before our scheduled induction, while grocery shopping mind you…anyways, and once my water was broken it was a quick 15 minutes and Little Ms. Attitude had arrived.
She was here, we were happy and we were done.
The past 4 years have been pretty much insane. We have the normal insanity household of raising two small children but added to that mix has been the intensity of Audrey’s still unknown illness. Much of her second and third year were spent in and out of hospital and while from time to time I brought up the idea of another baby we really didn’t seriously consider it.
How could we? Then and even now we don’t know if what’s happening to our little girl is genetic. We don’t know if it’s something another baby could be born with and the fear that it’s a possibility has held me back from begging for yet another. I can’t watch another baby be poked, prodded and tested. I can’t hear another doctor tell me that my sweet little girl is losing blood and could die. I can’t do it. I won’t.
Corey’s pretty much in the same boat, except he can’t see me go through another pregnancy again either. It’s hard to live through but some days I think it was harder for him to watch. He was discouraged, wanting to do what he always does and right my world but being left completely powerless to do so. He did NOT want to watch me go through it again.
This past year we’ve talked about it a lot. We’ve put all our concerns and worries on the table. We’ve prayed about what God’s plan was for our family and ultimately we decided that we are done adding our own biological children to this family.
Corey couldn’t face seeing me suffer again, neither of us couldn’t face the idea that whatever is happening to Audrey could be “our fault” based on our genetic combination and selfishly I didn’t want to give up my body again to the changes…the pain. A few weeks ago Corey made that decision permanent.
Then all the pregnant people around us started having their babies.
I’ve spent the last 3 weeks telling my ovaries to shut up. We’re done. It can’t (won’t) be reversed and that’s ok. I have moments of sadness, but not the tears I expected. I have moments of envy, but they’re followed by the relief that comes from 8 solid hours of sleep. I have my moments, but I also have peace.
I believe this was the decision God planned for our family and that my days of birthing babies are done. We also both believe that we may not be done adding children to our family. It all falls under, “who knows what tomorrow will bring”.