10 year nap
I am done having babies. But, not without regret.
The truth is, for a long time now, I have felt torn about this. I have wrestled with whether or not to have a third baby. I have considered every angle, every issue. I considered how high my odds of having a child with a disability might be, how difficult and physically damaging another pregnancy could/would be on my body and thought about how lucky I am already to have two healthy children. I thought about how we would have to move, and I love our house. I thought about the fact that, there is barely enough of me to go around with just two kids. I thought about the joy and love a third child would bring and what a wonderful experience it would be for our family. And, while every fibre of my being wants to live those disorienting, raw, extraordinary first months with a newborn one more time, ultimately, I realise that what I really want is for this phase of my life not to be over. I want to have this phase of my life, this golden moment, not to end. I want another opportunity to live – and to do a better job in – all the weeks and months and years that have already clanged shut behind me. And that is not the same as wanting another child. Understanding this distinction, which is somehow blunt and evasive at the same time, has clarified everything for me.
I didn’t love being pregnant, however along with my two completely natural deliveries it was the most extraordinary and empowering experience of my life. I would love to have the chance to do it again. I struggled with A2 as an infant, and I reflect on that time and wish I could change things, have a do-over – I think back on A1's babyhood with enormous affection and wish I could do it all over again too because it was the easiest and happiest time of my life so far. Part of my yearning is the desire for a second chance and part is the desire to have another spin around the rink; to feel again that gasping, outrageous miracle of small feet inside my body, to surrender once more to the transformative pain of birthing a baby, to become a mother again and travel that wave of emotion and experience. But all of that is because I don’t want this, the most magical and purposeful phase of my life, to be over. Yet, in my heart of hearts, I know that it is and that I have to move on. Go with the flow.
Realising this is not without a sense of real loss. And fear. My restlessness is back. Goals that I put on hold back in my twenties are re-surfacing and instead of shaking my head and closing the door I'm thinking, "why not?" But now, instead of looking in the mirror and seeing 28 year old me it's 10 years later. I have just woken up from the 10 year nap.
The truth is, for a long time now, I have felt torn about this. I have wrestled with whether or not to have a third baby. I have considered every angle, every issue. I considered how high my odds of having a child with a disability might be, how difficult and physically damaging another pregnancy could/would be on my body and thought about how lucky I am already to have two healthy children. I thought about how we would have to move, and I love our house. I thought about the fact that, there is barely enough of me to go around with just two kids. I thought about the joy and love a third child would bring and what a wonderful experience it would be for our family. And, while every fibre of my being wants to live those disorienting, raw, extraordinary first months with a newborn one more time, ultimately, I realise that what I really want is for this phase of my life not to be over. I want to have this phase of my life, this golden moment, not to end. I want another opportunity to live – and to do a better job in – all the weeks and months and years that have already clanged shut behind me. And that is not the same as wanting another child. Understanding this distinction, which is somehow blunt and evasive at the same time, has clarified everything for me.
I didn’t love being pregnant, however along with my two completely natural deliveries it was the most extraordinary and empowering experience of my life. I would love to have the chance to do it again. I struggled with A2 as an infant, and I reflect on that time and wish I could change things, have a do-over – I think back on A1's babyhood with enormous affection and wish I could do it all over again too because it was the easiest and happiest time of my life so far. Part of my yearning is the desire for a second chance and part is the desire to have another spin around the rink; to feel again that gasping, outrageous miracle of small feet inside my body, to surrender once more to the transformative pain of birthing a baby, to become a mother again and travel that wave of emotion and experience. But all of that is because I don’t want this, the most magical and purposeful phase of my life, to be over. Yet, in my heart of hearts, I know that it is and that I have to move on. Go with the flow.
Realising this is not without a sense of real loss. And fear. My restlessness is back. Goals that I put on hold back in my twenties are re-surfacing and instead of shaking my head and closing the door I'm thinking, "why not?" But now, instead of looking in the mirror and seeing 28 year old me it's 10 years later. I have just woken up from the 10 year nap.
posted by wattlebla at 21:49
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