One of the things that always bug me about maternity and parenting magazines is that they depict moms as smiling, effervescent and just overly perfect. Almost like a Stepford Wife vision of motherhood, The type who go into labor and instantly pop out a beautiful baby who sleeps through the night and takes to nursing like they have done it all their lives.
HA! While I am sure there are mothers out there who can look and act like that when with their children or when pregnant, I don't know of any who are...I know that while I enjoyed being pregnant after trying for so long, I certainly did not enjoy the weight gain, the break outs, the digestive issues, the bed rest, etc that came along with it. Nursing just didn't take, and while I became okay with that, I was sad that I couldn't even help my son with that. I couldn't carry him to term, and I couldn't stay with him when he was transported to Albany, and he was born with some birth defects that needed repair, so I was hoping that I could do at least that small thing, but no luck. I definitely am not perfect.
Sometimes it makes me wonder if I should even try to have another kid.
I love my son. He is the light of my life and a joy to watch as he learns and explores his world. But I'm not perfect. Sometimes I resent the 2A.M. wake up calls and the lack of privacy. I miss having down time where I can write (like I am now, ha ha), or read (reading to him does not count). I miss watching a TV show during the day where there are not animated characters or brightly colored dancing magical figures with a neon orange-clad puppet master. You know it's bad when you have a Percocet induced dream (post surgery, mind you) involving those characters and the phallic symbol actually acts like a...well, you get the picture.
All these things make me seriously question whether or not to have another child. After all, I do have a birth defect of my own that makes it near impossible to carry a child to term without surgery, as well as fertility issues that cause weight problems and insulin resistance. Any future child would be certain to be premature and require specialized care three hours away postpartum, unless I spend the last trimester on bed rest; that would mean taking time away from caring for my son, except for story time and snuggle time.
But I do love children, and I always hated being a only child for as long as I was, and I hated being so much older than my brothers and cousins. I want my child to have a playmate who is at home and will always be there for them no matter what happens in life. I have so much respect for those who have made the choice to have only one child, and if I thought I could handle that I would make that choice as well; but I can't.
So here goes the start of my journey to become a mommy the second time around. Time to throw out the birth control and get down to business....at least, once we get some private time without our son sleeping in our room!
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