Are you there God? It’s Me, Jennifer.

September 25, 2006 at 9:09 pm Leave a comment

I can’t help but wonder if not getting pregnant is God’s way of telling me I should not have a second child. I wonder if He is saying to me, “I gave you one miracle, you almost died. Now be happy with what you have and stop tempting fate.” But I can’t. I can’t stop wanting more. If money were no object and my body was agreeable, I would have a football team. I love being a mom more than words can express. From the time I was a small child, all I ever did was play with dolls, rock them and give them bottles. I wanted a baby as soon as I figured out menstruating meant I could now get pregnant. Of course being 12 years old, my own mom convinced me to wait a few years. At nineteen, I found the man of my dreams (literally and figuratively) and wanted to have a family as soon as he gave me the word. I remember the happiest moment of my life until that day – at twenty five years old — when his birthday card to me had a pair baby socks taped to the inside and it said, “I’m Ready. Let’s have a baby, Sweetheart.” So off we went and before I knew it, I was pregnant. It was like a storybook, first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in a baby carriage. Then I got sick and the rest became a nightmare but still, I would do it all over a thousand times to be Luka’s mama.

I’m just so scared. It took me a year of therapy and medication to get to the point of trying to conceive again without having a panic attack with the thought of it. I thought I had all my ducks in a row, gotten myself fully prepared both mentally and physically… now seven months later I am still ready but questioning, Are we doing the right thing?, Does not getting pregnant mean more than just we haven’t caught the right egg or is God really trying to tell me something? I wish I knew. If ever I needed a crystal ball, it is now. To see ahead and know that we are doing the right thing and not creating a nightmare that will leave far more lasting problems than panic attacks. Like a premature baby that a) doesn’t survive, or b) has lasting developmental problems that I will forever feel responsible for, or c) Luka without a mom. I know that’s worst case, but I’ve seen worst case far too often with preeclampsia.

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Right On Schedule I’d Rather Be Mama Than Beautiful Any Day.

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