A confession…

I have a confession to make.  I feel unsure about saying this out loud on here – fear of shame and shunning, I guess.  But, this is my little corner, so, here goes it…

We want a girl.

For a firstborn.

My husband, especially, is determined (and very very hopeful) that we have a girl first.  And, for the second, he would like either a girl or boy.

To clarify: we would absolutely be head over heels in love with a son OR daughter.  But, if we had a choice, we would want to have a girl first.

So, is it wrong to try and tip the scales in our favor?

Wanting to be first…

A while ago, in response to some comment I made, my husband asked me if it matters to me that I have children before my brother and his wife do – my brother and his wife who are 3 and 6 years younger than me respectively, who live in my parent’s basement, married less than a year, and have jobs that barely provide them for the necessities of life.

If I recall correctly I stayed silent and waited till he forgot he even asked the question and pretended the whole conversation never happened.

I want to say no, it doesn’t matter to me.  After all, it doesn’t matter to my husband, who although the oldest of four, did not produce the first (and only) grandchild on his side.  It doesn’t matter to him at all.  If this decision was left to him, he could easily wait a few more years before even considering this step – because he’s perfectly content with the way things are.

But, let’s be honest here – it does matter to me.  I want my child to be the first grandchild for my parents.  I was the first to get married; the first to buy a house; shouldn’t I be the first to welcome a child into this world?  I want to be the one that surprises my parents with the news of their changed status. I want my child to be the first one who calls my mom and dad nonna and nonno (Italian for grandma and grandpa). 

I know it sounds silly to most people – but it’s the way I feel.

However, my sister-in-law is baby obsessed and I have a feeling that she’s going to beat me to it… And, speeding the timetable along just to be first is ridiculous (and AMP would never ever go for it). 

But, I know that being second, especially second to my much younger sister-in-law, will sting.  I know that I will be resentful of being left behind again.  And, I know that those feelings suck.

So, I hope it doesn’t happen… Or for the strength to be a bigger person if it does…

The What-Ifs

“And we can sell our house and drive down and live in Brazil.  I’ll be Ricardo.  Your name can be… Miranda…” 

I interrupt my husband in the middle of his plan to flee our current life and ask him why his ‘imaginary’ futures never seem to have children in it. 

His response was to ask me why mine never involve just the two of us.  Why I don’t want it to be just him and me?

I was quite effectively silenced (though I’m not sure that was his intent).

It brought to surface one of my greatest fears – making the wrong decision on whether or not to have a child.  Especially because it is mostly my decision – it is something my husband is willing to do because I want it – and not because it’s his lifelong dream to be a father.  I love just the two of us, but I want a baby of our own.  He loves just the two of us but he says he’ll be happy with expanding our little family, if I’m happy.    

But I worry that he’ll resent me for this huge change to our lives.

And, I worry that I’ll be resentful if we don’t make this change.
 

Would you? (a work-in-progress)

My arms ache from the weight they’ve never known

The lullabies never sung, scratch tirelessly at my throat

The feel of your soft skin, cradled against my chest

A voice I’ll never know, whispering, “Mommy I love you.”

The goodnight stories we’ll never read

Cuddles and kisses we’ll never feel

Whispered conversations we’ll never have

Giggles and laughter we’ll never hear

Days and weeks and months and years

That we’ll never share

Days and weeks and months and years

and all the things I’m left to ponder

Would your hair been blonde and curly?

Would your eyelashes be as long as your daddy’s?

Would you learn to read at three?

Would you be shy like your mommy?

All the things I’ll never know

All the love you’ll never feel

Every day that passes I think of you

And miss you, my dear baby.

Guilt & Jealousy & Happiness & Thank Yous

In nine very short days we will have reached the end of 2010 and the beginning of 2011.  I can’t believe how fast this year has flown by – and what a hard year it’s been.  I’ve really struggled this year – emotionally.  The other night, I asked AMP if I could just hibernate for a while – hide away from everyone and everything – pretend we’re away on vacation if anyone comes looking.  I’m not sure he’s going for it.

I think I’ve overwhelmed him.  On the weekend, I broke down and confessed all my frustrations with him – the worry about the debt, my feelings of inadequacy in many areas of life, my obsession with having a baby – everything.  I’d been bottling it up because I didn’t want to make him feel bad, or guilty, about not being able to give me what I want right now.  But, I reached a breaking point, and it all came tumbling out.  And, I felt better momentarily, but sure enough, the feelings of guilt surrounded me. 

And, this was even before Principessa told me she’s pregnant. 

I read an article a little while ago that claimed that we can’t ever truly be happy for other people because human nature dictates that if someone is doing better than us, we will become jealous.  Being the reluctant owner of a jealous personality – I thought maybe it’s true.  But, I realized it’s not.  I’m truly happy for Principessa and all my other friends, blogging and real-life who are expecting or are planning on starting to try or have welcomed a little one in their lives.  I am happy for them.  I am excited to meet my new little niece or nephew – to watch how Mini-Principessa adapts to being a big sister…

My desire to have that for myself (I was looking for a nicer way of saying jealousy!), doesn’t negate my happiness for others.  I am still happy for them.  I am just sad for me. 

I’m not sure if that even makes any sense…

But, I am truly grateful for this little space in the blogesphere where I can come to laugh or cry – where I’ve found a group of supportive women who write words that make me smile when I am down.

Next year, I promise to try and be more upbeat – but in the meantime, I wanted to thank all of you who come by and read my thoughts and take a moment to let me know I’m not alone and that you care.  I’m not sure what I would do without your encouragement.

Hope everyone has a wonderful holiday.

Patience sucks!

Remember this post? Only six short days ago, and I’m already here to tell you that patience sucks.

I know, I know.  It’s only been six days and I can’t learn patience fast – but I think I’m having a bit of an emotional breakdown.

My best friend, Principessa, is pregnant.  She just found out yesterday.  And, being in best-friend status, I found out yesterday… And, well… I’m sooo happy for them – but I’m also sooo jealous. 

I want a baby so badly.  And, I can’t have one.  Not right now.  And, as much as AMP says in a year and a few months we can get pregnant – I can’t honestly see us being out of debt by then – in which case, having a baby will mean making the choice to sell the house and move hours away from my friends and family… And I don’t know if I’m ok with that.

And, jealousy – it’s so unbecoming.

I’m tired of crying all the time.  I’m tired of wanting a baby so badly it hurts…

I’m so tired.

Attempting to teach me patience…

When AMP and I first started dating and we talked about all those important issues that couples should talk about – we were both on board with the idea of no kids.  I don’t know how I managed to convince myself that I would be okay with having no kids – since I’ve always been drawn to babies and kids – but nevertheless, we agreed on no children. 

After we got married, my viewpoint started to change – and I told AMP.  He took it remarkably well, but was still reluctant.

I, on the other hand, have developed a steadily worsening obsession – baby fever – wanting a baby beyond any logical reason.  It doesn’t matter that we’re in debt, or that we in no way can afford the house and having a baby until we’re out of debt (or at least less in debt than we are now!).  I want a baby.  And AMP is saying no.

Except, we went from no to let’s talk about it in 5 years.  And then, the other day, when we were laying in bed and I tentatively broached the subject again, he said we could start trying in the spring of 2012 – with the hopes of a January baby in 2013. 

And, while I am immensely grateful that there is progress – and now a date to look forward to, I still wish it was sooner.  But, my dear husband is determined to teach me patience – and well, this gives me a whole year and three months to get my body and health in the best shape possible to handle a pregnancy – to give us more time to try and pay off our debt so I can stay at home with the baby for as long as possible without returning to work, to give us a little more time as a couple to build and strengthen our marriage – and all that sounds like important steps before a baby. 

So, I will work on my patience – and focus on our relationship, my health and well-being, and to extracting ourselves from as much debt as possible – and sooner than I think the time will be here – because waiting is so much easier when you have something else to focus on…

And plus, I’m determined to prove that I can be patient! :) 

By Doug Savage, at savagechickens.com

Change

I’ve written and re-written this post a dozen times.  I just can’t seem to get the right thought across.

I’m not a fan of change.  In fact, I fear change.  Even when I’m absolutely positively sure I want something, I’ll talk myself out of it, while hyperventilating at the thought of the havoc it would wreak on my current life.  Like getting a puppy – I say I want one, but in reality, I’m not sure I could handle a puppy.

So, what makes me think I can handle a baby?  And why is it that, even though having a baby is the most all-consumingly life changing decision we could ever make, it does not send me looking for a paper bag to breathe in?

I like my life.  I like the pattern of my days, but I want a baby.  Perhaps it’s part of the quarter-life crisis?  But it’s one change in my life I feel ready to make, emotionally.

Am I ready in any other way?  Probably not. 

While there are only really two things in my life I would currently change, they are both important factors when it comes to having a baby.  The basement has to be done, that’s non-negotiable.  And, at the rate it’s going, we’ll be lucky if it’s done even by the end of this year.

And, we need to be out of debt.  And, it’s not happening any time soon.  Actually the past two months we’ve managed to get ourselves further in debt by buying anniversary presents for parents, AMP’s school & certification fees, and well, the basement.

And, well, AMP needs to be on board, which might happen if those two other conditions were met.

So, we’re not ready for this life-change. 

But, I am.

 I am finally ready for the biggest change in my life ever, and the one change I don’t want to run away from, is the one I worry will never happen.

Thinking about Baby

The more I think about Baby, the more upset I get.  Isn’t it ridiculous?  After all, I didn’t know of Baby’s existence till after she* was already gone.  But still… Baby would have been my firstborn. 

I know some would suggest trying to not think about it.  But that’s impossible.  It’s not like it’s consuming ever second of my thoughts, but yes, it’s there, in my thoughts.  I can’t stop thinking about it.  I can’t stop thinking about how Baby will never be. 

Yes, maybe there will be another child in the future.  Maybe.  But it won’t be Baby.     

Will I think about her every year on the day she died?  A hard date to forget – the day after our anniversary.  Or will I forget about her eventually?  Will she lose importance, since she wasn’t planned for, wasn’t expected, wasn’t known? Will she be there when I have another child?  Will she be in my thoughts as I watch my child sleep? Will I always wonder if she would have been the same?  If she would have been quiet and calm?  Or maybe fussy and colicky?

I think that she’ll always be there – always. 

 

I understand so much more now, why it’s best to avoid platitudes and cliché sayings, such as “Well, you can always have another.”  Yes, you can have another baby.  That’s true.  But the key word is another.  It’ll never be Baby.  It’ll be Baby’s sibling. It’s reassuring at least that Baby is just gone.  She is not in heaven, because God is not cruel to strip a mother of her unborn child.  She is simply gone.  Perhaps that is meant to be reassuring?  A few websites mentioned that sometimes, early pregnancies end in miscarriage because of something being wrong with the baby.  An article on www.americanpregnancy.org stated that ‘the most common cause of miscarriage is chromosomal abnormality – meaning that something is not correct with the baby’s chromosomes.’

The articles say to keep the lines of communication open with family and friends.  I don’t want anyone to know.  I don’t want to deal with sympathy.  Or worse, for those who say, “But you didn’t know you were pregnant, so it’s not that big of a deal.”  Believe me, people are insensitive that way.  A knows, my mom knows, and my best friend/cousin knows.  That is it.  That is all who are going to know about this.  I do not feel the need to tell anyone else.  Talking does not make me feel better.  Writing does.  This is the way I grieve. 

Maybe one day, when the pain has dulled, I will be able to speak of Baby to others.  But I think I prefer to preserve her memory untarnished from the words and thoughts of others.

*Clearly, as it was very early in the pregnancy, I have no idea of whether Baby was going to be a boy or a girl, but writing he/she was driving me crazy and I refuse to refer to Baby as “it”, so she it is.

I’ve been reading about miscarriages.  Apparently mine is called a ‘chemical pregnancy’ because it was before the 5^th week.  I’ve estimated that I was probably anywhere between a couple weeks to four weeks along.  Chemical pregnancies are common, and usually the mother doesn’t even know.  According to www.babyhopes.com ’50 to 60% of first pregnancies end in miscarriage very early in pregnancy.  Most occur without the woman even knowing she was pregnant.’  

 

Or, will she forever be there, in the dark recesses of my heart.  Will she hover there when I see newborns in the grocery store, or in the mall?  Will I feel this pain intensely in the fall, when she would have been born?