When I was pregnant, I desperately wanted our baby to be a girl. I don't know why I felt so strongly. Maybe mother's intuition? Maybe just being silly because I'm a girl? Maybe imaging having one and then another girl and loving the idea of sisters? Who knows. The day we found out we were having a girl, I was completely over the moon with the news. And the day Lily was born? Indescribable.
At this point, I am just desperate to have another baby. I could honestly and truly care less if it's a boy or girl. Though I LOVE the idea of Lily having a sister because I could not imagine my life without my own sister. And I also LOVE the idea of her having a brother to love and protect, like my brother always did for me.
I am often asked if we'd like to have another baby, and I always respond "yes, we hope to." Without going into any details.
We are in a situation where we have to just wait and hope for another baby to come along. We've had some trouble with round two. It's not too serious and hopefully not permament, but it's definitely a setback in our "plan".
But taking from a friend, I've been thinking about why pregnancy/infertility is such a taboo subject? Why the need to keep it to ourselves? Why not seek love, support, guidance from those we love? Why not reach out for a little hug when we most desperately need it.
Our situation is apparently an easy medical fix. A benign tumor on my pituitary gland that is causing some crazy hormonal imbalance. I know it's silly and there are so many women/families out there with a lot worse situation, but it's been a bit of a blow for me. I am used to 100% control over my body. I'm a runner, I've ran six marathons, one of which I was 16 weeks pregnant. I am used to reading my body, knowing when I've done too much, when I should cut back, when I need to eat more, or lay off the fast food. I know when I'm not sleeping and the exact cause for it. I know the physical signs of stress and exactly what I need to do for myself to talk myself off that proverbial ledge. I know my body. And now that it has 'failed' at what I'm asking of it, I feel a bit off and a bit lost. Which makes me miss home and my girlfriends more than ever.
And though I absolutely love my husband and think of him as one of the most sensitive, lovely people I've ever met, he can not relate. He does not understand what it feels like to have no control of your body. Or what it feels like when your own body fails you. Or how inadequate you feel when you can not 'produce' when you feel perfectly healthy and happy. Or how you can go down that dark tunnel of blame and pointing fingers. At yourself.
So my girlfriends. Who's been through this? What advice can you share?