Where do we go from here?
That’s the question I’ve been asking myself for the past two weeks.
Two weeks ago tomorrow, I was at my OB’s office confirming I was having yet another miscarriage.
We had two blissful weeks before that OB visit. Two weeks of wonder, hope, and, yes, even panic. After all, we weren’t trying to get pregnant and the news came as quite a shock. But, by God I was excited. It was instant love for a child I longed to feel kick inside my belly, a child I pictured bringing home to our son and daughter.
And then it all ended. Slowly, painfully, it ended.
I never called our families and told them. The whole “Hi, I was pregnant and now I’m not anymore.” conversation sucks. We’ve been there. And, there’s nothing anyone can do to make it better. So I didn’t call. And maybe they’re learning about it now by reading this, and there’s still nothing they can do. (And I hope they understand it isn’t personal, but I’m just not up for that conversation right now and I may never be up for it.)
Now I’m stuck in this place.
This place of wanting another child when I never dreamed of having three kids (or even having two for that matter). ”You don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone” and all.
This place of knowing this is the second miscarriage I’ve had, and do I really want to put myself through another possible loss and the stress the first trimester brings? And knowing how much pain I was in physically (and still am almost two weeks later), can I put myself and my family through that again if I did miscarry a third time?
This place of loving my two children so much it hurts and knowing I would be happy for the rest of my life with them by my side.
This place of knowing my husband is totally content and considers our family complete as-is.
This place of knowing there’s a little place in my heart that aches to be pregnant again. To have a newborn. To see three of my children playing and laughing together, our dining room table full, our home overflowing.
This place of knowing our life is crazy as it is now and knowing I would probably go insane (and broke) adding another heart to our family, but wanting it anyway.
And I hate this place. I hate that we’re sitting at a crossroads and we have to begin to decide which road we’ll take. And this time, the road we choose will have permanent consequences, no matter which path we go down together. It’s a place I never thought I’d be.
Who knows when we’ll make that choice. I know it’s a huge decision and it needs to be discussed and thought about. But, there’s this part of me that wants to decide NOW. And I know that’s my open wound talking. The wound needs to close a little before we can really make a final choice about the future of our family. The pain is just too fresh right now to make an important choice like this.
Until then, I’ll be in this place, waiting, praying, thinking.