Torn

I've been thinking a lot about babies recently.  The journey to conceive Jacob was a difficult one.  It took almost 3 years to get pregnant...the pregnancy was fine, but the birth, recovery and ensuing 9 months post partum or so rocked me back on my heels pretty hard.

When we got married, I told Mike that I wanted 2 children.  After Jacob, he didn't pressure me or bring it up for about 2 years.  Then he started dropping hints.  I ignored them as long as I could, until I realized I needed to make a decision.  That fact, in and of itself, pissed me off.  I actively had to decide if I wanted to get back into treatment to potentially conceive another child.  Some people might say everyone has to make a decision to have another child, but for many people, that decision consists of throwing your pills out, or "forgetting" to take them for a couple weeks.  For others, it's a decision to have sex at the right time of the month.  Still others may have to time it with the addition of a fertility drug called clomid.  The list of possibilities goes on...but for me, the process is this.  Do I want to contact my fertility specialist and make an appointment for an u/s and bloodwork? Do I want to restart my metformin, which helps my PCOS, but gives me terrible stomach cramps, a feeling of general malaise, and blow out diarrhea for the next 3 months and birth control to help regulate my body? Do I then want to start estrogen tabs and go in for monitoring to be sure my uterine lining is thickening properly...and then if it is, begin intramuscular progesterone injections, and then finally my embryo transfer??  Oh, and then lastly, wait an everlasting 2 weeks before trudging in for a pregnancy test that you are both completely convinced is positive, and negative at the same time?  I don't get the luxury of just "trying and see what happens".  I don't get to throw my arms up in the air and leave it all to chance...

We made the decision in the summer of 2011 to do all that...again. It was more painful than I expected.  I thought the second time around was going to be a breeze.  I knew what to expect.  I had a child already.  Unfortunately, I was wrong.  It was almost worse this time.  Before we had Jacob, there was a desperation about me that made all the shots less painful.  Having Jacob at home made me resent the time the process took away from him.  It made me preoccupied, and the hormones made me crabby and short on patience.  I wondered if this was really what I wanted.  After all, if I did get pregnant and have a baby, all these things would occur more so, and for longer.  The progesterone shots were like acid injections, and I was sore almost immediately this time around.  I kept at it, and tried to stay strong and positive- I just knew it was going to work the first time around...

And it did.  My nurse called with my positive results in July.  But the numbers were low.  To make a long story short, it was what they call a "chemical pregnancy".  To be totally honest, I don't know how I felt.  I was sad.  I felt like I had failed Mike.  But on some personal level, I was a little relieved.  I needed more time.  We had 3 more frozen embryos left- did I want to try again right away, my nurse asked?  I did.  I had to go through another birth control cycle to settle my body down, and in September we were ready to roll again.  One of the embryos did not survive when they thawed, so they thawed another and transferred that.  Two more weeks...again, I got a call.  It was positive, but just barely.  Over the next month, I got dragged in and out of the lab for bloodwork, as my levels continued to rise appropriately, but stayed very low.  It was torture.  Some level of me wanted to believe it could work out, but the logical side of me knew something not good was brewing.  Sure enough, in October they diagnosed me with an ectopic pregnancy and I went in for a methotextrate shot.  All during this time I had to keep taking my progesterone shots, just in case.  I cried.  A lot.  The loss felt more real this time around.  I felt greedy.  I felt selfish.  I was scared.  Ectopic pregnancies can be dangerous- now I felt like an irresponsible mom, subjecting my body to known IVF risks even though I had a boy at home already that needed me.

And now here we are.  2012.  The chemotherapy drug has been in my body long enough that it is safe for me to try to transfer our last frozen embryo...but I don't know if we will.  Having one ectopic pregnancy greatly increases the risk for another.  I don't know if I can do it again.  I don't know that I want to.  I have a great family right now. I have a lot of freedom.  It's so easy to take Jacob somewhere.  Mike can go away for a weekend no problem- I can handle Jacob on my own, and vice versa.  And yet, I still feel guilty.  Is it wrong to not try harder for a sibling for Jacob?

I've asked him several times if he wants a baby brother or sister, or if he wants to be a big brother.  He has ALWAYS said no.  I know better than to listen to the words of a 2 1/2 or 3 year old, but it still always gave me pause.  Last month I asked him again...he told me, with indignance, and frustration (listen UP woman, for crying out loud) " No momma, I just want to be me.  Jacob Landon Perry"  I laughed, but I liked his point.  He'll be okay as an only child if that's what happens. He's an independent little guy, who has never been real cuddly.  Who's to say he actually wouldn't be happier without a brother or sister?

In any case- I'm torn.  I know Mike wants more children.  He's an amazing father, he ought to be able to exert his wonderful influence over numerous other children.  Alas, I am not the woman that can provide numerous children.  I see now that we are extra blessed that I was able to have one.  I see the questions in everyone's eyes when they see me with just one child.  I was asked insensitive questions when Mike and I were trying to conceive.  I thought they would end when we had a child, but now, instead of "When are you guys going to have a baby", it's "When are you going to give Jacob a sibling?" It's inferred that we are bad parents, selfish parents, abnormal parents, if we don't have another.

I don't know what our end result will be.  I don't know if we will try again, or move on with life for now.  I'm young enough that we could try again, from scratch, even if we waited another 3 years.  My little sister is 9 years younger than me, and I think it worked out great.  All I know is I love the family that I have fiercely right now, and that is what matters.  I want to live for today, not wonder what will be tomorrow.