That is a few lines from one of my favorite songs in the world. These days it runs through my often. Maybe too often. In a way, it’s my theme song right now. All I do is think.
Logan and I have babies on the brain. We talk about having more kids all the time. At night when we can’t sleep (or should be sleeping), we discuss what our baby would possibly look like. How cool it would be to have one with my blue eyes, instead of his brown eyes. The thought that this will never happen, as his eyes seem to be dominant. We discuss where the baby would sleep, how much we’d like Harrison to get to be a big brother and in some moments, we discuss how sad we’d both be if we were done having babies. We are kind of at a point, where we need to decide to have more or start the process to adopt, because we both know we want to be done with babies in the next five years. Seems like a weird conversation, I know, given what happened six weeks ago, but still…it’s where we are right now in our lives. We are young, everyone tells us this. You have kids; is most commonly heard. You have the next ten years to have kids, is my least favorite line. While it may be true, there are reasons we had our kids as young as we did. Plus? In ten years I will have teenagers. I don’t want to have a baby when Morgan is in High School. That is just weird to me. However, we know there are more kids in our future.
I go back and forth on wanting to try again soon, or hold off for a bit. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to fail again. Emotionally, it is hard to lose a baby, much less two. As hard as it is, as much as it has wrecked me, I don’t know if I’m ready to throw in the towel. In this moment it is too soon. Tomorrow will be six weeks. But when is the right moment going to be?
Was it easier this time around? Well yes, in a way. As easy as losing a pregnancy ever is I guess. I didn’t fall of the deep end, so I guess that is a plus. 14 weeks was way harder than 5 weeks. In a way though, this time was just as hard. Because I cared for and wanted this baby, just as much as the last time. I will say something that I never thought I’d say out loud: I didn’t think it would happen to me twice. (Amy, (POW) if you see this, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry to have thought that, sorry to say it.) I knew it happened, have had friends who it has happened to. My aunt had five miscarriages in between her two kids. Still, I didn’t think it’d happen to me. But here we are.
Part of me thinks we should just forget about it and adopt. We’ve always talked about adoption. It’s something we are sure we will do at some point.
Then I think about never being pregnant again and I cry.
I think about my pregnancy with Harrison and I regret not savoring every second of it. I wonder if I damaged him in some way, by not being sure I wanted to be pregnant at that time. I think, what if that was it. What if he was it. Because of how
I look at the four little newborny jammies that I bought at Kohls mid-April and I consider giving them away, but I can’t physically even take them out of the closet that they are hanging in.
I spend Saturday cuddling this:
and I wonder if Harrison is the last newborn I will cuddle at night. (Picture of my cousins 3wk old, Savannah.) The thought of that pains me.
The signs at Disney for Space Mountain say, this ride can be harmful to pregnant women. I stare at it for minutes before my cousin takes my hand and makes me stop.
I say in passing to Instamom on Sunday that if I’d still been pregnant, I’d have a Christmas due date and I cringe inside. Because it’s true. It took everything in my power to not sob in that moment.
I want to have another baby. Maybe even a few more babies. I am not done. I have room in my heart, in my home and in my family for more babies. But I’m scared. It’s supposed to be easier than this. It’s not supposed to hurt so much.
I dream about babies. Little girl babies for some reason. (Doesn’t mean anything, I dreamt about Harrison being a girl too. I just think all of mine as girls, until proven otherwise.) We have names picked out for future kids. We are, as my MIL says, baby obsessed. She gets it though. They tried for ten years to have a forth kid and never managed to even get pregnant again.
But timing is everything and really it’s all chance. I think about there being one more baby, sooner than later. I tell myself that I can do it, I can try once more. I tell myself not to be afraid, that I am strong enough to try this again. At least give it one more shot. I want to be pregnant once more, give birth once more. Then any we have after that, will most likely come to us through adoption. Logan still wants six and as time goes on, I want six too. Five at least.
So, I think about it.
