Round Two

My period returned exactly 6 weeks after the D&C. I was all for trying again immediately, having gotten the green light from my doctor.

And then, on the brink of ovulation season, I started asking myself and my husband questions which had never really came up earlier, like, “Um, are we ready for another baby?” “WILL WE SURVIVE ANOTHER BABY?” And the answers were, “Don’t feel ready, nope, not at all!” and “I don’t know.” Even now, immediately after conception season has ended, I’m ambivalent.

We ask ourselves these questions knowing that the answers are irrelevant. We are going to have another baby, regardless. We are forging ahead. That’s the insanity of this baby making business. Despite the fact that another infant may – I don’t know – wreck our marriage, or our bodies, or our mental soundnesses, it is somehow crystal clear to us that we need another baby, on some emotional, visceral, even rational level. And it may as well be now, because seriously, I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to execute the squatting duck walk beneath the jungle gyms in eight years time. The timing is right for us now, not later. My husband is 8 years older than I am. (I have never seen him execute the squatting duck walk.)

And personally, I really want to be done with pregnancy, and pushing babies out of my vagina and feeding them with my breasts, as soon as possible.

But back to needing another baby. The answer came to me a couple of weeks back, when I realised that Michael is not just worth all the crap that has followed (don’t be fooled, babies are like Trojan horses, you let them in because they are so cute and the next thing you know, you have an army of crazy soldiers invading your erstwhile peaceful head space and running amok in your household and shouting really loudly at 2am and doing things which make you reach the end of yourself), but if I’m being conservative, he is worth it ten times over. At least. Even in the depths of parental despair, I am confident that I would assess this the same way. Ten times over. And actually, priceless, of course.

I did that math deep down, knowing that it was true, and everything inside me clicked. I became absolutely sure that I wanted another, despite the consequences, and the risks. I want another “ten times over” kid.

It will probably break us, and make us, and break us, and make us.


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