We had a bit of excitement yesterday, my due date. My acupuncturist reckoned I would have a baby by the end of the night so when I started having pains around 8pm, we got very excited and emotional. I was also scared – not of labour and birth, that was actually the exciting part. I thought about it and realised I was scared of never being pregnant again. Of having to watch everyone else go through pregnancy as many times as they wished. But most of all, of never getting to experience this amazing feeling ever again.
I have talked myself round to how great it will be to have two children. It’s not what we planned but it is more than we ever imagined just a year ago. Two means we can give each one more attention, more financial support, we can give each other more time and devotion and our careers will take less of a hit. It also means that I will never again have to put my family through infertility.
I don’t want to spend the first few years of my baby’s life fighting another losing battle. I’m not sure I even want to sideline her to pregnancy. And yet, the decision never to try again is so immense, I can’t contemplate it. I don’t even know what it’s like to have a menstrual cycle that doesn’t dictate day-to-day life. But it may well be out of our hands, we will just have to wait and see.
Many rivers to cross first.