Thursday, August 11th, 2011
Author’s note: I’m stealing a line from Julia’s blog on Parents. ie: If you are trying to get pregnant and having trouble conceiving, don’t read this.
At 14 weeks, baby in belly is the size of a lemon
When Fia was born we felt so lucky. She was healthy and happy. 20 months later, she is all that and more. And I continue to count my blessings. For that reason, and a few others, Phil and I didn’t see a sibling in her future–or ours. Neither of us wanted to jinx our perfect situation. We got a good one, why gamble? I figured maybe down the road we’d adopt.
Friends would say how great it is for kids to have siblings. I wasn’t convinced.
Half the time I hated my siblings and they hated me. There is no guarantee that everyone will like each other. It’s yet another roll of the dice. Just like procreating.
I also didn’t feel like going through another pregnancy. Granted, I had an easy one with Fia, but again, why gamble? Plus, in my AMA–Advanced Maternal Age– (roll eyes at that stupid term) I didn’t want to risk all the things that can happen with old ovaries.
In May, we came back from a family vacation in Costa Rica. Life got busy. I had to make a final trip down to FL to say goodbye to my dying mother. Then I was off to LA for a business trip.
In the back of my head I had a nagging feeling. But my stomach cramps and sore boobs reassured me. Any day now.
One night when Phil was out of town, I poured a nice big glass of wine for myself. I opened up my calendar and began to count. “27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33”… hmmm. I took a sip. Recounted. Sipped again. Recounted. I finished my wine, might have poured a little more, and went into the bathroom to pee.
My internal dialogue went like this: I’ll just look under the sink to see if I have any left over tests–just going to put my mind at ease. Ahhh! There is one. Cool.
Pee on stick (no internal dialogue here).
Watch stick (?&^%*$#@?&)
Gasp. Scream. Run to phone.
“You gotta talk me off the ledge” I yelled.
“What? Are you in a fight with your siblings?” Phil asked with alarm.
“NO,” I shouted. “Fia’s going to have a sibling. I’m pregnant!!”
“What? Seriously? Holy f-ck. Wow. Whoa. …(3-second silence)…Ya know, I like babies.” I grimaced.
“But you don’t have to carry one. And the beginning….”
I was already reliving those first few months when Fia kicked my ass. Lack of sleep and raging hormones turned me into the devil. Not to her—she had my entire heart–but she was the only one.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said. Then added calmly, “I think we’re pretty good at it actually.”
He had a point. We never wanted kids. We’d been married 10 years before we decided to roll the dice. And after those initial “suicide months,” we fell into parenthood like strawberries in chocolate fondue. Swallowed up and coated with a layer of life so delicious neither of us could believe it.
So on the night I peed on the stick, called my husband, and poured the rest of my wine down the sink, I began to embrace this next chapter. It’s a chapter I would have never had the courage—or energy– to write for myself. The universe made the decision for me (along with some recklessness on our part), and I’m going with it. I’ve always enjoyed a good game of blackjack–and have done quite well at times. Time to double down.
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advanced maternal age, AMA, brother, due date, new baby, ovaries, pregnancy, pregnant, sibling, siblings, sister, unexpectedly expecting | Categories:
Fearless Feisty Mama