It’s two o’clock in the morning and I’m wide awake. Most likely due to the two servings of caffeine I had today, one of which was at dinner time. So now I lay in bed, my mind wandering.

In case you were wondering, Miss K was born on December 18th, healthy and well. She’s now home with her parents who adore her. And although labor was long, it was uneventful. I didn’t bleed to death after all.

As the copy-cat that I am, I volunteered to pump breast milk for Miss K because that’s what a friend of mine did. It is good for both of us. It helps her for the many beneficial qualities of breast milk and it helps my body return to normal faster. Unfortunately, it also leads to pumping every three hours (aka sleepless nights) and tender breasts. This, my friend, gets old very quickly.

Two days ago, I decided I had had enough. I quit. This resulted in painfully swollen breasts and another, far longer, sleepless night. Which led to a very cranky me. Emotional and weepy, I tried to stay busy and distracted.

Tonight, as I lay in bed not sleeping, I have a bit of an epiphany. I feel loss. Not for Miss K, because she’s not mine, never was. But loss that I will never again do what I felt I was born to do. I think I’ve mentioned it before, but I have easy pregnancies and deliveries. Quite text book. And although I say I’m 29, I’ve said that for 8 years. At this point, I’ve reached “advanced maternal age”. Additional pregnancies run higher risks.

Before this pregnancy, my husband and I had talked about making our family officially complete, so he had a vasectomy. At the time, we were both very happy with that decision. Right now, with my maternal hormones running through me, I feel sadness and loss. I will never have another child. I will never feed my milk to another child. My usefulness is gone.

I understand this is a result of my hormones but it doesn’t make it any less powerful. As I lay in my bed, I begin to wonder who I can sleep with to get pregnant. Okay, so it would make things a little awkward. “Yes, I’m pregnant again. No, my husband isn’t excited.” Followed by visions of me in the delivery room. “Yes, this is my husband but this other guy is the baby’s father, so he needs to stay, too.” I imagine the looks I would get from the hospital staff. “Don’t judge me!” Perhaps a dog would be a better way to go.

My maternity leave will last for another couple of weeks. It is my hope that when I return to work, I will become myself again and this need for a child will pass. If not, I will babysit my three year old niece. That will take care of it. Cute as she is, I don’t want to go back to that stage of parenting. I like my 10 and 13 year olds. They’re quite self sufficient.

Stay tuned…


Moving along

So it’s been a little bit. The pregnancy is moving along, 13 weeks now. Baby is due December.

I’ve dropped the evil estrogen pills, which is wonderful. I feel more like myself again, but even so, now I have to deal with the regular pregnancy hormones. Most days, the world is shiny and bright but I still have the urge to get in a car and just run away. My husband hates me so withdrawn but there’s really nothing he can do about it. I just need my space sometimes.

Tomorrow will be our 15 year wedding anniversary. It doesn’t feel like its been that long, yet at the same time, it feels like its been my whole life. He is a wonderful, amazing man. I’m beyond lucky to have him in my life. Our two girls are also a blessing that I’m so thankful for.

Sleep has been a challenge for me and I know that it’s partly related to the various bathroom trips I need to make during the night. I’ll never tell him, but he sometimes hits me in his sleep, so I wake up because of that, too.

Last night, I woke up at four in the morning and wondered what would happen if I hemorrhaged during labor and bled to death. My family would be so devastated but… I had a selfish moment and enjoyed the idea of just going to sleep and not waking up. It would be a wonderful way to go. My last delivery, I has a small one. I remember losing my eye sight because I didn’t have enough blood to flow there. Ironically, I just calmly noted that my sight was gone, even though my eyes were still opened. There was no pain, no panic. Just a peaceful, relaxed notation. Nothing wrong with that.

So I think I’ve decided on a DNR order. I should tell the family, but he’d just panic and think I’m being suicidal. I’m not looking for death, but if it comes knocking, it’ll just say “come on in.”