Do I Dare Ask For More?

by ParentCo. November 10, 2017

father and child at dinner table

Waking up to my sweet, smiling boy, I realize it wasn't a dream. This is my reality. My child is warm and giggly and oh so affectionate.
So why isn't this enough?
As my husband pours Jack's morning cereal and I load his Toy Story toothbrush with toothpaste, I can't help but feel overwhelmed with guilt. Looking around our home, I feel so much love.
I feel the warmth of the heat under my bare feet that we're fortunate enough to have on this cold Winter morning, I hear Jack's voice floating from the kitchen where he's eating his breakfast and chattering away about the FitBit he wants for his birthday, and I see our beloved little dog, Bailey, running up and down the hallway, tail wagging, eagerly awaiting her morning walk.
Again I ask, why isn't this enough?
I feel like I'm in a deep state of mourning. For the past year-and-a-half, my husband, Mike, and I have been trying to have a second child. Thus far, we've been unsuccessful. All the charting and temping and testing and praying in the world hasn't helped. To say I feel empty would be the understatement of my lifetime.
Though he came into our lives when Jack was three after a hugely dysfunctional marriage, Mike is an excellent father to my son. Childhood friends, we reconnected after my divorce. More children were never on our radar. As fate would have it, Mike immediately fell in love with Jack and we were soon married.
Naturally, thoughts of baby making began infecting our brains and our hearts. I had been pregnant twice before, once ending in an early miscarriage and once yielding the most beautiful, healthy, happy, and chubby baby boy anybody could ask for.
How hard could this be? We were on it.
One month turned to two. Two turned to three, and soon a feeling of dread set in. I felt as though my body was at war with me. We were doing everything "right." We're deeply in love, we're good parents, we're college educated, and Mike is a very respected and successful chef. So what could the problem be?
I found myself crying in my gynecologist's office and being scheduled for a myriad of tests. After much poking, prodding, looking, and donating samples, we were relieved to find everything was normal. Yes! Maybe it was just a matter of time? More time passed and still, nothing happened.
As friends joyfully announced their pregnancies, I smiled, hugged, and congratulated them. Genuinely happy for my soon-to-be-mommy friends, I couldn't help but cry behind closed doors. I felt guilty for feeling sorry for myself, but the truth is, I did feel sorry for myself. I so badly wanted to see a plus sign just one more time. I so badly wanted to see my husband's infectious smile as I presented him with the news that it was finally our turn.
An entire year has passed now, and after visiting yet another OBGYN and reproductive endocrinologist, we still have no answers. At this point, I feel like I've lost something. What it is, I'm not sure.
The guilt is quite possibly worse than the mourning. How dare I feel sorry for myself? I have so much. I'm so blessed already. Some people never experience pregnancy or childbirth, and I was fortunate enough to feel Jack move and grow inside of me. My body did what it was supposed to do. It built a healthy, strong baby and nursed him exclusively.
Not only was I blessed with a healthy child, but I found love again in my husband. Real, honest, deeply passionate love that swept me off my feet. How dare I pity myself? But I can't help it. I feel broken. I feel empty. I feel afraid. I fear that, when Mike and I are gone, Jack will have no one to recount stories of "Ma and Dad" with. I fear he will never know the love of a sibling the way Mike and I do.
And I fear it's entirely my fault.
Refusing to give up and admittedly terrified, we'll keep trying. I'll keep taking the prenatal vitamins "just in case," and Mike will continue taking Zinc to optimize the quality of his sperm. I'm not sure if we'll ever stop. As a matter of fact, in just a few short days, we have yet another appointment with a reported "rock star" of Reproductive Endocrinology. Maybe she will be able to help us?
Walking into the kitchen where Mike and Jack are still eating their breakfast, I realize that this may very well end up being the family we have: Mike, Jack, Bailey, and me. Standing there listening to my precious son and my loving husband as the early morning light hits their faces, my eyes well up and a smile spreads across my tired face.
These tears are not due to another negative pregnancy test or another friend's pregnancy announcement. Instead, these are tears of love and gratitude. For in this moment, I realize this is enough. We are a happy and healthy family, rich in love and mutual respect. If this is how our family is meant to be structured, this is enough for me.
No, this is not enough for me. This is more than enough for me.




ParentCo.

Author



Also in Conversations

mother and baby
The Evening Ritual That Transformed Our Bedtime Routine

by ParentCo.

Taking inspiration from "Goodnight Moon," and research on restorative sleep, I created a routine that has put an end to our bedtime battles. Here's what we do.

Continue Reading

baby winking one eye
5 Steps to Giving (Good) Advice to New Parents

by ParentCo.

Here are five easy steps to giving your new-parent loved ones the advice they are looking for without looking like an idiot. (Often times, just listen!)

Continue Reading

baby boy in a disorganised bathroom
I Don't Mind That My Toddler Has No Interest in Potty Training

by Pam Moore

Despite my efforts, my toddler has yet to demonstrate any real interest in potty training. And that is fine with me, at least for right now. Here’s why.

Continue Reading