Maybe no baby

Today is a difficult day. We've lost the sweet baby I've been telling you about, a baby brother or sister that was to be born the beginning of next year to complete our family. You don't understand what I've been telling you which has made you the perfect confidant as I've needed a listening ear while I have gotten used to and then progressively excited about the idea.

But alas, the fault of no one, this baby wasn't meant to be.

I am actually ok at the moment and quite rational today. I can't promise as much for the coming weeks. As the loss hits me and my hormones crash into oblivion, I will probably be crying over every diaper ad I see, not to mention spilled milk, baby animals, broken toys, dryer lint, and well, you get the picture. It may not be pretty but I promise – I will be ok and eventually back to normal and still loving you every minute. Your hugs are my very favorite medicine.

This isn't the first time I've lost a pregnancy. The first was before you were born and the pain of that experience was so acute and intense, it is difficult to put into words. It was a loss compounded by months and months of fertility stress that had left us wondering if we were ever going to have a baby. Finally being pregnant was the biggest relief I have ever felt in my life. Losing that baby at just 7 weeks was absolutely devastating, and made even worse by days of not knowing what was really going on. The whole experience left a dull ache in my heart that really only got better after seeing your face for the first time and finally believing that you were mine.

This time is different in so many ways.

Most importantly, we have you and you are more than I once dared hope for. If we never have another child, I will still feel beyond blessed.

Plus, during your pregnancy and birth, I developed a new and incredible respect for my body. I absolutely trust that it knows what is doing and I know it wouldn't be letting this pregnancy go unless it was supposed to.

Also, I must admit, my desire for another child and confidence that I can handle a larger family is not entirely black and white. For the last few months I have been mulling over many questions and I still don't have the answers...

Is it better for you to have a sibling or to have our undivided attention?
Can I handle being pregnant while chasing down a 2-year-old?
Can we really let you grow up “alone?”
Will you have the loving relationship with a sibling that I hope for or you will you just fight all the time anyway?
Will another child put too much pressure on our marriage?
Does the well that holds my mental health, energy and abilities go deep enough for me to manage two?
Even if I am afraid, can my heart let go of the feelings I have for another child?

All this isn't to say that we didn't want this baby and that part of me isn't heartbroken. No, we have been overjoyed at such an impending gift. We’ve been talking nurseries and names, imagining a whole new life and a backseat with two (!) carseats. I've been dreaming of a new little face and lots of laughter between you (along with the inevitable "she's touching me" and "I'm telling" refrains).

And despite the incredible difficulties, I can hardly say how much I have treasured the experience of being pregnant, giving birth, and carrying for a newborn. It has been so amazing and I have felt so alive and purposeful. There have been many days when I feel it going by all too fast and I really do rely on the comfort that I might get to do this again.

Although during a few days here and there, I must admit, I’ve considered putting you at the curb and gotten by only by counting the minutes until your dad got home so I could run off and try to reclaim a trifle of sanity.

And now?

Well, I really don't know what happens next. Can your dad and I face starting over again? What is the best thing for our family?

I hope you will be patient with me over the next weeks as my body and spirit heal. I hope you will forgive us for denying or giving you a sibling when we decide what we think is best. Please know that no matter what happens next, I love you and nothing will ever change that.

Yours always,
Mama