I’m not sure why, but with both of my pregnancies I knew I was pregnant almost immediately.  Even as a first pregnancy, I emailed two of my closest friends and told them I was nearly positive I was pregnant (we hadn’t been trying, but we also were not entirely surprised) and that I still couldn’t take a pregnancy test for ten more days.  I think they thought I was crazy, but 9 days later, I broke down and took the test a day early and it very quickly confirmed my suspicion.

The heartburn, nausea, boobs and crankiness all start immediately for me.  With Kellen, I told Kyle days ahead of time and he didn’t believe me because I had to be PMSing I was so cranky (haha – he learned a lot that first pregnancy).  With Owen, he knew almost as soon as I did…apparently he recognized the possessed look in my eye.  Except for during my two pregnancies, I never felt that way any other time.

That is, until a couple of weeks ago when I woke in the morning to nauseating heartburn, tender breasts and some extra spice in my attitude.

I’ll get to the punch line quickly; I am NOT pregnant.

However, for a 24 hour period, I really wondered if it could be possible (TMI, but for the record, medically speaking, it’s not very likely).  Another baby after two preemies?  As you can imagine… emotions were shaken, not stirred.

Clearly, knowing our risks, I felt fear.  If I was pregnant, would we go through bed rest and the NICU all over again?  Or worse?  I also felt overwhelmed.  In different ways, both of my boys require a lot of time and attention.  Could I be a good mom if I had to make time for another?  I already have days that I question my ability to be okay at this mom thing (not trying for mom of the year…fed, clothed and not the school bully are my priorities).  I worried most about Kellen’s feelings and a little about Owen’s needs.  Kyle can and does do everything I can do, but I’m the one who knows his needs bests. Also, Kyle works hard and a lot of hours to provide for our family.  His job requires travel. What would happen if I was on extended bed rest?

Full on freaking out ensued.

At the same time, I also couldn’t help but feel a small tinge of hope.  Was this my opportunity to have a pregnancy end the way it should?  The kind of pregnancy that ends with a healthy baby who goes home at the same time as me.  No trekking down the flight of stairs or through the antepartum wing to see my baby.  Instead, he/she would be in the room with me.  When the boys came to visit, they could touch and hold the baby.  No lonely wheel chair ride; this time the baby would be in my arms.  We would have “Welcome Home” balloons floating overhead as my healthy, cord-free, baby was cocooned in my arms.

And I would know to appreciate the miracle of a healthy baby.  I would savor it, it’d be a dream coming true.

Could I have that?  Just once?

The truth is, I’m not hoping for another baby.  I feel our family is complete at this size and with the members in it.  However, I can’t help but wish I would have had that happy birth experience in my life.  In Grieving my 38%, I shared my grief of those weeks and months that I missed in pregnancy.  Thinking that maybe I had another chance at those days, I can’t lie, there was a glimmer of hope.  Hope that, with the right care, I could be wheeled out of the hospital with my baby in my arms.

© Copyright Tatum, All rights Reserved. Written For: Ain't No Roller Coaster

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