Just before Mark turned a year old we started discussing baby number two. We had talked about it thoroughly and made a plan as to when I would stop taking birth control so we could try. So my pregnancy with Rose was as planned as it was going to get. I was actually very hesitant when it came down to the time to actually stop taking my pill and try. We had decided that I would stop my pill on Mark’s birthday because who knew how long it would take for my body to adjust and us to actually conceive? When it came down to the wire and I was faced with putting the plan in motion I got cold feet. I just kept thinking about how Mark would feel when we told him. Would he feel betrayed by me? Resent me even? A million questions and a wave of guilt rushed over me and made me feel like I was drowning. I didn’t want my sweet little boy to feel like we were trying to replace him or feel any less loved.
After a few days of Joseph consoling me and assuring me that it would be fine, Mark would be fine, I pulled the trigger and threw my pills in trash, then had a panic attack. Then I started wondering how long it would take for another sweet miracle to be made. Well apparently I am the most fertile woman in history aside from the Virgin Mary, because we conceived on our very first shot. I really should start playing the lottery with how extremely lucky I am with conceiving.
We found out about baby number two on the October 1st and I immediately told my mom because I’m terrible at keeping secrets. By October 4th we had made the announcement public on Facebook for all of our friends and family to see, just days after finding out ourselves. I know a lot of people don’t agree with announcing while in the first trimester due to all the risks associated during the first few months. We decided that we weren’t going to be scared of the “what if’s” and if anything were to happen to the baby I didn’t want to go through it alone. If something happened I wanted to make sure I had a solid support system on my side and I wanted to be open and honest. I didn’t want to hide our tiny, so loved little miracle because of the fear that maybe we wouldn’t get a lot of time with them.
My pregnancy with Rose started out as absolute cake, especially in comparison to the amount of sickness I had the first time around. “What a miracle”, I thought. I had picked up running a few months before we had started trying so I was determined to keep that up and maintain my healthier lifestyle for the duration of this pregnancy. Maybe of how meticulously we had planned this out was why it was going so smoothly. Who knows? But I was ready this time, more prepared, both mentally and physically. Or so I thought.
A few months into my pregnancy with Rose I had this overwhelming exhaustion. I could barely keep my eyes open anymore and would tear up sometimes with how tired I was. I was diagnosed with extremely low iron levels, anemia, which I probably should have seen coming with the lack of iron I consume on a daily basis. I had to go to a cancer center and speak with a hematologist who ultimately decided that I need iron infusions (IV iron) because if I had gone into labor that day I would have “bled out on the table”. Needless to say I did not want that or to need a blood transfusion after labor so I was very eager to start my IV’s.
I also had recurring yeast infections with Rose. I had never had a yeast infection in my life, and had no idea how absolutely unpleasant they were and apparently how common they are in pregnancy. I think it came back 3 times in the course of my pregnancy despite every effort to keep it from returning.
Other than those, what I like to consider, slight complications, my pregnancy with Rose was a breeze. That might seem strange to say following the words “you’re going to bleed out on the table”, but it really was a pretty simple pregnancy. I ran until I hit 36 weeks pregnant and just couldn’t take the belly and not being able to catch my breath after running anymore. I felt like I got really lucky with how easy my pregnancy with Rose went by. But I couldn’t help but feel that gnawing feeling again of guilt that I was taking something away from Mark. The further I got into my pregnancy the more guilty I felt. I just couldn’t brush off feeling like he was going to be crushed when his little sister made her appearance and he was no longer the sole attention getter.
I’m going to go a little off track here and say that when we found out we were having a little girl I was terrified. My entire life I thought I would only have boys. I thought I would just have a gaggle of little boys trailing behind me with their toy trucks, just trying to get them to stop eating dirt or whatever I thought little boys liked to do. It was obviously very exciting to find out the unexpected news of having a little girl, but I was shocked and scared. I am in no way, shape, or form a feminine individual so I had no idea how I was going to handle being a girl mom now, after having prepared myself to be a boy mom. And then I started shopping. Why are little girls bows and outfits so cute and so much more diverse than boys? It was astoundingly easy to walk into a store and buy hundreds of dollars worth of bows and dresses for the little princess. I do wish they had cooler boy clothes though because it would be awesome to get to dress Mark all up all the time.
When my due date rolled around I had an entire closet filled to the brim with bows and cute outfits, but no Rose to be found. Just like Mark, Rose was a little stubborn and she was born 3 days after her due date after over 24 hours of labor. I went into early labor at work at about 10AM and had her right after noon the following day. My epidural had worn off in the last hour of this long excursion and at one point I told Joe “I can’t do it”, as if I had a choice at this point with Rose crowning.
I cried “she’s so beautiful” when she was born and just like that all my worries rushed away. Mark met his little sister and he was immediately in love with her, the best of friends. This whole time the only one making me feel guilty was me. My recovery was significantly quicker than the first time and I was up and moving around, going on walks with the family within 48 hours. And that was that. Now a family of four, transitioning into our new roles, and the new, yet somehow nearly the same, life. Or was it?
