While at work I am constantly being bombarded by the gummy, gooey smiles of little ones which causes me to go temporarily insane as I think that maybe, just maybe I would like to have another kid. Once the veil of insanity is lifted I am reminded of my kid rule (one per household) and all becomes right. I jokingly talk about my “One per household” rule but this wasn’t always the plan. Way back when The Dad and I were married and young and still liked each other we would imagine a life with two kids. The Bee and a second one.
As arrogant new parents, we planned just how our new family would come to be: The Bee was to be a completely potty trained toddler, ready for a “big girl” bed leading the way for us to be ready for this new member of our family. The Dad and I had both started new jobs so we were planning how we would maneuver time off and just how our little family would be growing.
But this pregnancy was unlike my last. I was sick all of the time, cramping and tired. At a routine appointment the technician was mum about the results seen during and ultrasound and her reaction was echoed by our doctor: there was no movement. Stunned, The Dad and I discussed what we should do. Well, there really was nothing to do but deal with the ensuing aftermath of losing a baby.
That night as I hugged The Bee tight and dropped her at my sister’s, a part of me felt relieved. Despite The Dad and my planning, we were actually having issues in our marriage and a new baby wasn’t the answer. There was a part of me that felt like I was being punished. The arrogance of planning a child resulted in this.
The physical pain lasted a few days but the emotionally I was exhausted. I felt that I must have done something wrong this time around and of course there was something wrong with me. Why was this pregnancy so different than others? Maybe the relief I felt for not bringing a baby into a rocky marraige was was cause for punishment?
Years later The Dad and I talked about all things marriage and he shared his feelings. He was heart broken and while I seemed to have gotten on with life and went on my merry way, he was still looking for answers. The Dad never blamed me (I had blamed myself enough) but my seemingly unaffected nature caused the problems we were already having to grow.
Now that time has passed, I am happy with my beautiful daughter and love seeing the families of others. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if things went differently. For these times I happily scoop up a visiting child and steal as many hugs and kisses as possible.
This post was inspired by a prompt from Shades of Social Media. Karla Trotman, who writes the blog Belly Button Boutique, asked us to share thoughts about Uncomfortable While Pregnant.