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01/19/2007
UNGGGGGGGGGGGGH. And furthermore, UNGGGGGGGGGGGGH.
As far as we've discussed, Paul's reservations about trying to have a child through donor eggs have to do with the fact that I kind of suck at pregnancy. It's a legitimate position, I suppose; if I were to develop HELLP again, at best we would face a frightening birth, and at worst he'd have to marry that hatchet-faced spinster lady down the track because we all know a grief-stricken widower with a runny-nosed bairn still in clouts needs a good Christian woman t'do for 'im.
It's a tough point to argue. I do kind of suck at pregnancy. So far the best I've managed to come up with is a weak protest: "Well, you were willing to try with my eggs..." Paul's answer, spoken in the mildest of tones: "Actually, not all that willing."
It is hard to be persuasive when I can't easily articulate why I want another pregnancy so badly, when it doesn't make intellectual sense even to me. I haven't found a way to say it without sounding like the spoiled and thwarted child I'm often sure I am: I just do.
I've been working on it. Now, I get a lot of mail about this site. True, a fair amount of it pertains to the size of my penis, a sensitive subject for me, and much of it says things like, "Raunchy Brunette OLDERMOM in Glasses," which cuts a little too close to the bone for my comfort. But often it's good, and sometimes it's really good. Sometimes readers tell me, "You've managed to describe exactly what I feel."
I am asking you, please, to do that for me.
I've been quiet over the past several weeks. I've been finding I don't have much to say. Wait, that's not exactly true: I have a lot to say, but since it consists almost entirely of long animal grunts of pain, I've decided not to bore the Internet with it. Who really wants to read sixty daily posts in a row that say, "UNGGGGGGGGGGGGH"?
It's hard to find words these days, not only to describe what I'm going through now, but to frame my hopes for the future. I need help. It's not that I need to justify my desire; no one else could do that for me even if I felt it necessary. It's that I feel so uncharacteristically tongue-tied and wish, if I can, to be rescued.
Tell me: Why do you want what you want? The things you want and your reasons for that will, of course, differ from mine. But I'm hoping that as you tell your stories, I'll have that same moment some of you have described to me, where I think, "That's exactly right."
It's happened before, and I hope it can happen again. Because unless I can describe it, I can't really deal with it. I can't see the edges of what I'm up against. I can't either talk myself out of it or, somehow, talk Paul into it. Help me. Either I or Paul's second wife will be grateful.
Comments (148)
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Julie,
I am one of the lurkers who frequently says "yes, that's exactly right." When you called out for help, I felt compelled to respond. I've thought about these issues a lot.
First - quick background. I have two children. My oldest (3) was adopted from overseas and my youngest (2) was born to us thorugh IUI. I have lived overseas a good portion of my life and fell in love with any number of children. Adoption was always part of my family building plans. Fertility issues were just an added bonus. (yeah, right). I wanted to be a parent and was tired of waiting (2 years of unsuccessful trying) so we filed our adoption paperwork and pursued IUI at the same time. I had two miscarriages in this process, and a more recent one last year (an unlikely oops pregnancy).
After that third miscarriage, I felt very strongly that I needed another child (a third). My husband was ready to do the old snip-snip. Clearly we were not on the same page. After many teary discussions and one "come to Jesus" evening, we actually found a compromise that worked for both of us. We wouldn't do anything deliberate to have a third child (IUI, chart), but we wouldn't do anything to prevent it (snip-snip, birthcontrol) for a designated period of time. That gave me the hope that it could happen with the risk it wouldn't and my husband the risk it would with the hope it wouldn't. Weird but workable. (One point of clarification, if adoption from the same country were an option for us, we'd have a third child. Unfortunately, we are no longer eligible).
As the months of our compromise have passed and my emotions (and hormones) have mellowed I have learned some things (this is the part I hope is helpful to you). There is excitement in ttc - no matter how painful or what process. There is excitement in pregnancy - not always good but certainly stimulating. I craved that excitement. Thinking about getting and staying pregnant and the adoption process were huge parts of my life. Letting go of those aspects of my self/knowledge/time/relationships/converstations/interests to move to new identities has been hard.
I missed the sense of anticipation that I carried with me daily (what will the baby look like? will the call to come pick up our baby come today?). Even though my pregnancy was under difficult cirucmstances (another story) and post losses, both my pregnancy and our adoption were filled with hope. That hope and anticipation were a lovely place to live even through the fear and pain. The proverbial two sides of the same coin. And darn exciting compared to regular daily life. Does that make sense?
I hate to admit this part, I also really liked the attention being expectant draws from other people (again, both from the adoption and the pregnancy although the pregnancy was more obvious). I liked that people gave up chairs for me or understood when I left a party early or asked me how I was doing with the wait or how I was feeling. A felt really supported. Self centered but also lovely.
Here's my last thought and then I'll shut up: I miss each stage of my children's life. I miss the newborn who slept face-planted on my breasts after nursing. I miss my oldest's first steps and baby sign language. I grieve each passing stage as I celebrate their accomplishments. Another baby gives me the chance to have all those moments and stages again. I've come to realize that I may always want another child. (Don't tell my husband, I'll deny it).
Anyway, I've come to a more logical place. My thinking involves how my decisions effect my children - how would a sibiling with disabilities effect them? what does a third mean in terms of financial resources? what would my grief over another loss mean to them? I will grieve when the time of compromise is over and we get serious about preventing pregnancy, but I will also feel relief and freedom to finally move on.
So, those are my painfully won thoughts on the subject. Time has given me a better place to consider the whole picture. I hope you find yourself with that time, too. Warmest wishes to you and Paul as you figure this out.
Damn it woman if you want it you want it. You don't need to know why, you just need to get started.
Ok so Maybe you want it because you feel jipped out a full term preg, maybe your like me and you want to do something RIGHT, and in it's entirety.
Maybe you've been doing this stuff for so long that you just want something nice to happen, like a happy bunny rabbit and duckie goddamn pregnancy like "everybody else." You've been through so much you'd be crazy not to want this for yourself. You damn well deserve it.
When we finally decided to start trying to have children, I was not as 'into it' as my husband. He was concerned that he was getting older (nearing 45 at the time) and 'how the hell long did I want to wait'?' Then infertility strikes, my drive and determination was just as much about wanting to be a mother as it was being damn pissed that I "couldn't do something" that was so fundamental to the functions of woman. I would not be thwarted in any way, I would do what it took.
Fast foward, 8 cycles, miscarriages and a gestational surrogate later to my one year old twins.
Now, I would fight for a different reason, not because I am a spoiled child fighting for something that I can't have but rather because to finally have become a mother is to taste something sweeter than anything I had ever dared dream.
I believe that now that Charlie is in your life you cannot imagine not experiencing that again. Everyone has a different point in which they surrender, you are not there. Some surrender before they even begin, you, however still have the fight in you. I believe in my heart, that somehow you will find your way, I don't know the path (for that info I'd have to charge you)
As for Paul, I still think that men arrive at things at different times, if they ever arrive at all. They just don't understand the maternal 'pull'.
God, Julie, I know where you are at and it is a very difficult crossroad.....I pray that you find your way sooner than later.
Julie,
I am 5 months away from being 40. I have ALWAYS wanted babies - always! I got married really young, found out at 21 that I had PCOS and needed medical assistance to have those babies. I went through years (7 years of you want to really know) of Infertility hell. I was slap dab in the middle of our first IVF, when my ex decided he wanted out. He had found someone else who within a month of them being together was pregnant. I was devastated and destroyed. In the middle of those 7 years, I conceived naturally but lost the pregnancy at 11 weeks. I was then on my own for another 7 years before I met my husband, and in that time, I came to terms with the fact that I will probably never have children. It took a very long time but I eventually got there.
I have now been married for 5.5 years, and a week ago, intuition or craziness or whatever you want to call it made me take a HPT - and it was positive. I went for my first beta and dr's visit on Tuesday and when I got the results of the 2nd beta today, it didn't double. And I want to curl up in a little ball and die, because I don't know if I can stand the pain again that I had been in 16 years ago when I lost the first pregnancy. I always thought I had accepted the fact that I will never be a mom - I had after all done everything in my power when I could, to try and have a baby. Today I realize that I desperately want a child. A living breathing little being, with my green eyes and my husbands personality and also his brains :-)
I don't know where this road is going to lead us, but I know that I still want what I have always wanted - to feel hands and legs kicking me from within my own body. My greatest and biggest dream ever.
It seems like everyone has the same feeling - you just "do" want another child. It has to be that primeval instinct to reproduce, to nurture, to do it again. That is one hell of a gut feeling to override, logic be damned!
I am now the happy recurrent miscarrier mother of 2 gorgeous boys and I know that feeling so well.
So I suck at pregnancy (if I sucked at infertility that would imply that I get pregnant easily, maybe I suck at fertility)...I have FVL I needed medication to get pregnant and stay pregnant (not IVF or even IUI but metformin & aspirin to get pregnant, tried Clomid only ever miscarried with it, and aspirin and hcg injections and heparin injections to stay pregnant)...I get horrible morning sickness even when I miscarry (not hyperemesis but very sick), I have palpitations so I can't walk far, (well that was with number 1, not number 2), I have high blood pressure issues and pre-eclampsia (with number 1, waited for it to strike with number 2, scheduled an induction to avoid it, went into labour). Granted my labours were not horrific, not short, but I came out relatively unscathed. Am I stupid? Probably - I know the risks, but I felt they were manageable.
My consultant said it best probably. He was seeing me pregnant with number 2, less than 2 years after he'd seen me pregnant and terrified with number 1. He had a trainee obstetrician with him, and explained "Mrs M has this blood clotting problem, she was a fertility patient, she had several miscarriages, but she has a healthy child and so she's back for more...we see a lot of people like this, once we've cracked the problem they can't get enough of it"! Bless him - he was right, all I could do was lie there and smile!
Whatever the rationale, there is some part of it that isn't and almost won't be logical, that isn't explainable, it's just there. The heparin injections DO reduce your risk of a lot of the complications of FVL although you won't be a low risk pregnancy by any means. For me, I look at my 2 boys making each other laugh (nearly 3 years old & 8 months) and I just turn to goo - that's why I did it.
Good luck in trying to explain it - it's really tough. I think there is also an element (for me) that I am happy to bear the risks, just as I was happier being the one in pain in labour, rather than being the one watching my loved one in pain! DOes that make sense? That might help you in understanding Paul's reticence about it all - it is not easy to watch someone you love at risk or in pain, whatever the rationale.
Oh man, that is a whole post on its own. See my own blog.
The most brilliant minds in history didn't wait for the answers to find them. Rather, they felt compelled to fill in the blanks they sensed in their paths. And the best, most hopeful thinking and work gets done when people are inspired by the void in front of them.
There is a blank line, for lack of a better term, which is waiting to be filled in. Perhaps it is a matter of creativity (or Creativity, in the higher sense) that drives us. We were all created and I think the need to create is an overwhemling instinct. Why do writers suffer over novels that never get published? Why do researchers compose the same lab tests over and over without knowing what, exactly, they are hoping to prove? Because they have faith in the process leading them to an insight, to something they couldn't have even known to question had they not started the work.
Let's look at the situation another way. It is not the known that we are seeking out by pursuing another child; it is the unknown. The hope that in having another child, we will find the answer (an answer we didn't even know was possible), rather than having the answer guide us to why we want the child.
Wow, did your post hit home. And if the oogles of comments before this one did not let you know, I got tearful and had to keep nodding reading this and I have no experience with infertility.
The things you cannot speak elequently are from the back part of your brain that you cannot logic yourself out of.
My dad had a bit of unintentional wisdom for me when I broached him on this type of emotion:
He told me he is going to get his pilots license and fly what is basically the love child of a moped and a kite. He is doing this even though it is dangerous and expensive and my mother has got the nervous shakes over his decision to do it.
I asked him, “How can you pursue this flying thing when it makes Mom so uncomfortable?”
He told me, “Because I have to be who I was meant to be.”
And for the first time, I think I started to understand.
Hope this helps in any small way. Take care.
I want another pregnancy because I want a chance to do it right. After dealing with long-term infertility, I finally got pregnant. And then did a pretty lousy job at pregnancy, or at least from 29 weeks on. I want to prove to myself that I can carry a baby to term and deliver without having to detour through the NICU. I feel like a failure.
Notice I said nothing about wanting another baby, because I don't. I'm happy with just my daughter. Which is why we won't ever attempt another pregnancy. But it does sound like you do want another child, and I hope you're able to reach a workable solution.
God, Julie, it continues to be amazing to me how the phase of my life parellels yours. I think I wouldn't be sane right now if it weren't for your ability to verbalize all of our pain.
It took me a year and a half to achieve enough follicles for one IVF cycle, which failed. I started 2007 excited and optimistic, because I had decided I would try for one more IVF cycle and then go with donor eggs, which "of course" meant I would have a baby by the end of the year. Your sadness over never getting to see yourself in another child in a way helped me to let go of my need to cling to IVF as my only means of having a child. Life without a child is boring and meaningless, and I currently resent having to entertain myself with meaningless activities while I am waiting to become a mother.
So I had the donor all picked out, cute young thing. Presented the idea to DH (is that "dear" or d***), who said he## no, he refuses to father any child unless it is genetically related to me. Suddenly, 2007 has turned from a year of excitement, to one of resentment and anger. I am so done with being childless.
Ok, enough abut myself. Regarding wanting to have a second child -- I was the one who posted 1) that I never planned to have an only child, let alone no child; and I also posted that I had been an only child until I was 10, and it was boring as hell. My intense desire to have a child also stems from a sense of a lack of connection to anyone in this world. My two half-brothers, who grew up together, have this connection and this sense of belonging that I will never have. Yes, I know you had plenty of people who chimed in on how great being an only child is, but as great as that is, I think the bond between siblings can be incredible, and I would hate to deprive my child of that feeling, if I had the choice.
Yes, men try to shield you from danger, and yes, you went through some horrible times. But it is your choice to make, to put yourself at physical and emotional risk, if the result is to get to experience yet another mother-child connection, to see another being blossom into an individual, to let Charlie have a relationship like no other...
Please, tell me too the words that work for you - because I'm sure it will happen if you want it to. How about, because you love me, and I need this?
I want the chance to show that my body works and I can do this.
I'm still new at the "ttc" game- we're at nine cycles right now. I want desperately for my body to work. I want to show- myself, really- that I can do this. That my body and my husband's body can make a baby. That then after that, my body can carry a baby to term. And deliver a baby. And breastfeed a baby.
I'm very well versed in the fact that if I don't do these things, it will not make me worse mom. But I want my body to work the way I want it to work. In your situation, part of me would want to be pregnant again because I would want to prove- to myself, mostly- that I COULD do it. That I could do what I was supposedly built to do, without fucking it all up.
Just how strong is that urge/desire/need/want/wish to be pregnant again?
Consider the recent debate over the possibility of uterine transplants.
Side A says, "Why chance an extremely risky surgery just for the slim possibility of becoming pregnant and having what would surely be an extremely risky pregnancy/birth when there's plenty of adoptable babies / surrogate mothers / fun to be had without children?"
Side B says, "I want to be pregnant. You just don't get it and maybe never will."
This is a basic human drive. You might as well ask men to detail exactly why they want to have sex.
I don't have a child yet so I can't say what I'll feel if we're lucky enough to get to one but I can tell you how I explain why I want children at all.
I want children because when Diana Karlson made fun of me in the fifth grade, I came home to my mother, put my head in her lap and cried. She stroked my hair and comforted me and later we made cookies. I want children because of late nights at the lake, giggling with my brother in the loft and waking up early to catch crayfish in the chilly early-morning water. I want children because when my college boyfriend acted like a jerk, my brother had to be restrained from beating the guy. I want children because when I got myself so deeply into a lifetsyle that was wrong for me that I almost couldn't get out, I was able to come home to my parents house and feel all the love and saftey and shelter I felt back when Diana Karlson was the biggest hurt in my universe.
I want children because I want to see these things again through the eyes of my children. I want to watch them make friends with each other, watch each others' backs and come to me for comfort, love and reassurance. I want to take my supremely happy childhood and recreate it for another small person. I deeply, deeply want that.
Well I guess I can add my two cents in to the mix but I have to say I am only going to be able to tell you what I myself want and why. I haven't been fortunate enough to have a baby yet. Infact, the only for sure pregnancies I have had were gone before the doc could squeeze me in so I never even got to acknowledge being pregnant until after the fact.
Hubby and I are young (He's 23 and I'm 25) and we married because we wanted to create a home and a family. Thus, from the starting gate there were no precautions or preventions taken. My husband has lost his job twice this year. I work for the school system as an aide and I don't have insurance yet. We have recently moved closer to my parents because his family is not the type of family I want to raise my children with. It has been difficult to be unselfish and responsible in having a child. I cry myself to sleep most nights aching with the mere thought of a child. Some think I am silly for getting all teary at a cute kid moment but the hurt is so strong. I've never felt so pained or empty with any other challenge in life. It sounds silly but I feel like I am incomplete. When I married, part of that hole was filled but still, there is a huge gaping wound in my soul. It is like the jigsaw puzzle isn't all together yet. I always think of one of the Shirley Temple movies (I forget which) where the children are waiting to be born. I feel like somewhere a child is biding its time to be mine, and until we are rejoined I will feel this way. I truly believe that we have the children we have for a reason. They were for us to raise from the very beginning and until our purpose is lived out, our lives cannot be fulfilled. Maybe that's too philosophical or spiritual for some but for me that is why I feel like I have such a painful deeprooted desperation for a child even though I know that right now is not the time for it.My husband cannot understand why I get so upset or why I cry so much over it. He says when its our time it will be our time and when we're ready we'll cross the next bridge in our four year battle. For me I struggle through every single day waiting to finally have all of my pieces together. Maybe having more children is just like saying "All my pieces aren't there yet."
I have one 9-week old baby girl at this point in my life, and I already want two more - at least. Not right away, but also not for any logical reason. I want to have three babies. I want to have three wonderful reasons to wake up in the morning. I want to have three pieces of eternity which took root in the core of my being. I want these three babies because I feel that they've already chosen me and are just waiting to be born. Nothing logical. Nothing even remotely left-brained. It's just my heart telling me what it needs.
Because my regrets in life are for the things I haven't done.
My heart will always feel hollow because I waited until it was too late and the moment had come and gone.
Having said that, I agree with Amanda - it is entirely different to face a risk yourself than to see a loved one at risk. I'd fight tooth and nail against Hub if he wanted to do something that might kill him. Sorry.
So, I read this earlier and I tried to think of something deep to say but the fact is, there's no rational reason for why I wanted a second. There were plenty of wonderful, irrational reasons, however and sometimes those are better than the ones that make sense.
To be honest, I don't see why I should have to come up with good reasons for wanting another when uber-breeders don't have to bother. Yes, it was harder for me. And yes, it was hard on our family. After 7 miscarriages, I probably should have given up. But I couldn't see my child as an only child and I couldn't wrap my brain around being a mother to one when my entire life had been planned out differently. It's not like finding out you'll never be a prima ballerina or a concernt pianist--it's just a simple dream that most people pursue without thinking about it at all. And I wanted that right too.
I will say this: It's not a decision you can make in a vacuum. Neither you nor your husband can make the final decision. It has to be both of you. I'm always shocked when one partner says "we're through". I can't imagine how I would feel about my husband now if he'd insisted that we stop trying.
As for the health issues, you made an informed decision when you pursued IVF with your own eggs after Charlie's birth, in other words, you decided it was worth the risk. It shouldn't be any different with donor eggs.
Good luck.
Graham is fifteen months old and I still can't articulate it. Saying "I wanted another child" doesn't come close... it's like I was missing him, I needed him, and now that he's here -- I was right. The part of my brain that was looking for this child can finally relax. Something in me hushed for the first time, and I hold him and he hugs me back and my god, it's like coming home after a long, exhausting trip. I was righter than I've ever been right about any single thing, which may not be saying much but still. I was right.
I hope it doesn't sound like I'm bragging over my success (haha, less infertile than you neener-neener-neener) or being dismissive of the hardship that another pregnancy would put you through. I'm just saying, I'm on the other side and oh man. If there's any way you can get here, you've got to do it.
First attempt result one son (4.5yo) = easy. Not even a hiccup.
2nd/3/4/5/6/7 Miscarriages later and nothing but flat misery and the eternal question of 'Why?'
I cannot really explain it well, but at 39, there is not much time left. That my son is THE most important soul to me, that I never knew how much I would love someone, that he should have a sibling for now and when I and his dad are long gone, that I want to experience one last pregnancy and savour every moment instead of complain about it as I did before, because we cannot afford IVF and PGD I don't want to let money stop me, because, because, because.....it's probably something I can't have.
Here's my reason for wanting 2 kids...
I am an only child, and I always wanted a sibling because I wanted family and connectivity to people. To replace the family I didn't have, I have very close friendships, and funny, my closest friendships have been with other only children. As I have gotten older, I realize the fact that my parents aren't going to be here forever and when they do get older and need more help, I will be the only one to help. And beyond that, when they are no longer with this world I will be all alone. I have DH and family etc, but nothing is ever a sure thing. I just want family; Cousins, nieces, nephews, etc. All my family will always be someone else's family that I have horned in on.
But here's the deal, being an only child has afforded me opportunities in life I would not have otherwise had such as travel, exceptional education, and lots of attention. People are usually surprised when they find out I am an only as I do not fit the ridiculous stereotype of onlies, as most of us don't. There is definitely an upside to being an only, so don't get too down if you wind up with one.
Truly, I can make an argument for either side.
I wanted another the moment Olivia was born (and am amazed that I may be getting that chance). I knew I wouldn't be able to absorb the experience fully because I was so scared and so tired. I want to be able to appreciate the pregnancy, the birth and those first months that were partly lost to me in the fog of overwhelm. I want to feel the kicks and rolls, I want to hear Jeff's voice as he talks to my belly and tells the baby to "Growwwwwwww." Perhaps this is selfish. I don't know. But I know it's what I want.
I also want Olivia to have a sibling. I want her to have someone to share with, someone to fight with, someone to know better than any other person. With my father's health in decline, I am grateful for my siblings every day--for the shared memories and inside jokes and the simple knowledge that we can lean on each other when we need to.
There are a hundred reasons, but perhaps "Because I want to" is as good as any.
--Bugs
We're into a little of this at my house, too. We have two, a boy and a girl, and my husband cannot fathom why we would need another one. He's smart enough not to bring too much logic into it, too, so there's nothing much for me to argue against. He simply says, "two is enough".
But for me it doesn't feel that way. I think it might have been one of your commenters that said it for me awhile back when she said it just feels like someone is still missing in our family.
I worry, sometimes, that maybe it's because of the miscarriages, particularly the second (almost certainly not a chromosomal problem, but that my uterus was an unsuitable host and a perfectly healthy potential baby died), that it's that baby that I'm "missing". In which case, of course, there will always be someone missing, no matter how many children we have.
What it's come down to for me is this: Mothering is the best thing I have ever done. Not just for me, for my enjoyment, but I truly believe I am better at this than anything I've ever tried before. It fits me in a way no other role really has. So of course I want to do it again.
I have to admit (to myself, anyway) that I have moments where I wonder if I really want it because I want it or if it's because he is so definite about not wanting it. You know, the old "I want it because I can't have it" thing.
There's no reason you can give for having a kid that doesn't ultimately sound selfish, is there?
I was only pregnant once about 10 months ago for about 3 weeks but as soon as I saw the thin pink line on the HPT, I felt like a new person, like this big gaping hole in my body (my uterus probably) was going to do something really amazing. I felt just beautiful and haven't felt that way since.
As I am reading these, I am really and truly almost crying. The urge to become pregnant and give birth is, to me, so amazingly universal and primal. It is probably the most difficult urge to explain to anyone who has never had it. Reading these, I know that I, for one, do not feel so alone :) I always used to wonder why infertile couples would put themselves through so much "just to have a baby." Now I understand, because if I could not get pregnant and/or give birth, it would just break me apart.
Why do I want what I want? Because Im afraid that my father is going to die before I have a child. He has pancreatic cancer, which is one of the more deadly forms of cancer, so we started ttcing this month. Im selfish and I want it.
Ironically, I always complain to dh that I have nothing to blog about..
Wow, everyone has been so articulate in response to this.
I want what I want because I have so much love to give. Like, BIG love.
Julie - I kind of suck at pregnancy too. In fact, I really suck at it.. I spent my first trimester puking my guts up with the doctor telling me an abortion would be my only answer... I spent the second trimester puking and spent 4 weeks in the hospital after losing 31 lbs. I spent 6 weeks on an IV at home. I was constantly told I was going to lose the baby. It all crescendoed with an induction that failed, 12 hours without medication, and a nurse who called from the hospital room I was in to let the doctor know " We were losing the baby "... after his heartbeat dipped, dipped again, then failed completely. I had an emergency c section and he was born blue, aspirated meconium, and had an apgar score of... 3...
Then I stopped breathing in recovery, and passed out the next day on the toilet.
My marriage failed after that. My husband couldn't take the idea that I came so close to dying for a crying, screaming poop machine. But oh... god... How I wanted another one.
Why? I suffered so badly. I was suicidal, vomiting all day long. But the reason for wanting another is completion. I wanted a second child, and a second pregnancy because I still felt like I wasn't really a mommy... I was a woman with a child... I was HIS mommy... but as much as I love him... I wanted more. I wanted another fuzzy baby head. I wanted a brother or sister for him.
And... I still suck at pregnancy. I'm on antibiotics till baby #2 is born, because my kidneys are terribly infected with some bacteria that refuses to quit.
But I'm happier than shit.
Good luck.
Cera
Totally unrelated to the whole pregnancy business, but you asked what I want....sooo, here it is. (Remember you asked *lol*)
I want a diagnosis for my baby girl. I want her to learn to walk. I want to find answer for the episodes that attack her little body every two weeks. I want to know what the future holds for her.
I used to want a house full of children...5 actually. But we got to number two (my dear sweet girl) and she isn't what we expected. Not that we don't love every minute of her...it just is no longer feasible, at least for now, to fill this house with children. She is almost two, still isn't feeding herself, is not walking, communicates largely with sign language. Her health is not ideal (see aforementioned episodes). And so it is not fair to her for me to continue filling the house with children, because she needs 100% of Mommy, and I just couldn't be that for her if I was to get pregnant in the foreseeable future. She might be the last. It is something I've mourned over and come to terms with...looking at my precious girl certainly makes it worthwhile. Even though my body is quite good at becoming knocked up and popping kids out, it still isn't in the cards for us for other reasons.
If I could loan you my uterus for while, you know, until we got to a point where more children were a possibility, if that ever happens...I would SO do it. I wouldn't have to worry about accidents, and you could pop out a couple kids in the meantime. :)
I turned to donor eggs after four miscarriages because although ultimately I just wanted a child, I also really wanted to experience pregnancy. Somebody above said they wanted the moment of meeting their newborn, and I have to agree. That was something I had always dreamed of, and it was one of the only perfect moments I've ever experienced. I had a difficult pregnancy, with a bleeding scare that was diagnosed as placenta previa, but I still loved the experience and the end result was magic.
I'm not EVEN going to post my name because I know someone will misunderstand this and flip out. But here goes.
Reasons to NOT produce a child, by anyone, at any time: rational, logical, sensible.
Reasons to get knocked up and have a baby: emotional and selfish, always.
ANYONE'S reasons for reproducing always boil down to "cause I wanna."
I can list out reasons WHY I wanna (baby love is completely intoxicating, I want a chance to do it "right", I think we are great parents, my child would benefit from a sibling) but, like everyone else in the universe, it comes down to "cause I wanna".
And, somehow, declaring, "I am biologically driven to perpetuate my genes!" just isn't satisfying or persuasive.
No one anywhere, ever, can build a solely logical, rational case for having a baby. And there are always logical, rational reasons why it's a bad idea (timing, money, physical health, age, you name it). Ya shouldn't really expect to be the exception.
So, hell, join the rest of the universe in inexpressible longing. And tell Paul that it's not about logic.
I just posted about the topic of wanting another - and that post probably says it the best way I can. This is waht I said:
She throws her head back and laughs, a deep infectious belly giggle and yells "Again!" We dance/sing/throw a soft item at her head/pretend to fall down/all of the above, she giggles and yells "AGAIN!" There's very little we wouldn't do to make her feel that way, to see that even her eyes laugh when she's at her happiest, to spot the 3 dimples that hide unless she's truly thrilled.
In those moments we see utter contentment, a delight that most of us have forgotten how to experience.
In that one word, she sums up how I feel about wanting another child. There was a time I thought, prayed and begged, "Please God, I just want a child." Now I realize I should have been more specific. At the time, the possibility of one seemed so far away - two seemed like being greedy.
She's almost two, I'm completely in love, and more than ever I have the desire for one more child. My family feels incomplete and I know someone is missing. She's so much more than enough, so much more than I ever realized my child could be and yet I know our family is incomplete. If it turns out she will be our only child I won't feel as if I've settled, just that we've left someone out.
We haven't been preventing pregnancy for some time -and we're rapidly approaching a year of trying, 6 months of trying intently. A short period of time in the grand scheme and yet I'm finding there are some old, scabbed over wounds that are still sensitive. Women who started trying again around the same time we did have already had their babies, a friend with a daughter the same age as mine conceived unexpectedly 3 months after we started trying and her son will be born any day.
I want to feel again the tumbling butterfly sensation of a baby moving in my womb. I want to see the heartbeat of a new life, and marvel again at the wonder that a heartbeat so appropriately shows up as a light. I want another lightning bug, another miracle, I want my heart to rejoice "again, again, again!" I want to witness and play an active
It would be easier in some ways to walk away, to say I've experienced the miracle and my life has been changed forever. I can safely say I've felt enough joy over my daughter to say I'll spend the rest of my life trying to earn it.
Emily doesn't feel greedy or guilty for shouting "Again!" She doesn't feel like there's something wrong with asking for more.
Tonight, I pray. Please, God, Again! Just once more, Again!
You want another child because it is your dream, to have two, and dreams need to be pursued, fought, and wished for until they come true. If they don't, then they need to be adjusted to suit...or they wither away and die.
When I dreamed of having a child, I didn't dream of having A CHILD...I dreamed of having a family.I wanted three children, all different ages and a combo of both sexes. Playing outside together in the leaves, their heads bent together over a Monopoly board, giggling and whispering together on the stairs at Christmas time. Then my husband and I were broadsided by infertility, and my dream was adjusted to "Please, if anyone is listening, just one...alive...please" and then I got two. And damnit, if my dream wasn't reborn. I want three, I want to be pregnant again, I want the chance to have a girl, I want my dream.
You had a dream of two children, you have one, you're half way there. People who don't pursue their dreams to the fullist extent of their ability are quitters, milk sops, and panty waists. You may have to adjust your dreams, but never give up.
Remember..."No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dream that you wish will come true."
I'll tell you what I want, I want that stupid Spice Girls song out of my head :)
For me, reasons for wanting more (not that we've decided to try) are looking at my boys and thinking "Yes. That was good, it was right, I want more of that." and also to try to do it better next time.
I had a scary delivery and a really, really rough start at home with the boys (emotionally). I think I could do it better and I want to prove to myself that I'm right.
I have a balanced translocation... just like your friend, Julia.
So far I have been pregnant 4 times in 2.5 years, and I've lost them all to unbalanced translocations... 23 weeks, 6 weeks, 12 weeks, and most recently 4.5 weeks this month. I've also done 3 IVF/PGD cycles without success. My FSH has risen above 10. At thirty-fricken-two.
And I can't quit.
In my most hysterical moments, my husband says "Aren't I enough? If we never have children, can't you be happy with just me."
I don't ever know how to respond to this. My husband means everything to me. He is absolutely incredible. The most wonderful man I've ever met. I could never ask for anything more in a husband.
And yet....
I say "No. It's not enough. A childless life is not what I want. Not what I ever envisioned. It will never be ok."
We've started the process of adopting a sweet baby boy from Guatemala. He's adorable, but I'm so afraid it will fall through. Everything else does. And I know... even he will not be enough. I want another. Which is why we're still TTC.
It's hell... having such a longing remain unfullfilled.
I want a second child because having one will increase my chances of becoming a grandmother. And at my ripe old age (42), it's lookin' pretty iffy!
On a related note, I was thinking of moving somewhere, like Iowa, where the average age of marriage and childbirth is MUCH LOWER than it is in the fucking Bay Area.
What do I want?
One word: Sleep. I want sleep. Every molecule of my body wants sleep. If I'm still for a moment, I can feel the sleep latent inside me and be tempted to give into it. But there's logic and living and things to be done and I can't sleep...yet. I used to look at sleep as a necessary evil, as an interruption to all of the living that I want to do, but now I'm able to recognize it as an essential part of it. Sleep lets me live more and better. I can delay my need to sleep, I can push it down, I can attempt to stave it off; however, I will eventually give in and only desperately hope that it will be there, waiting for me.
Ah well, after typing all of this out, maybe that's not the question you asked after all.
Okay, I won't muddle my mind by reading what everyone else has written.
Here's my thing:
Another pregnancy, if achievable, would be bad for my health. I feel I owe it to my 6-year-old son not to risk my life (though he does say he wants a brother). I owe it to him to be as healthy as I can. A subsequent pregnancy, for me, would almost certainly be more medically complicated than the first one was (31-week preemie), and I'd probably end up with an even earlier preemie if we made it that far. To embark on it, knowing that (1) a sick, tiny baby would be the best outcome possible, (2) my long-term health would be worse, (3) my 6-year-old would get zero attention while I tended to a preemie in the NICU, and (4) my death maybepossiblymight arrive decades early—I decided it's simply not worth it. My obligation is first and foremost to raise the son I have.
I'm not usually much of a commenter but I can relate to this question. I had a son six months ago after two miscarriages. I had a fairly smooth (if fearful) pregnancy but an awful delivery (c-section) with dangerous complications that landed me back in the hospital for a while - separated from my newborn. My complications may have left me with scarring that may impact my fertility and the health of future pregnancies. For the first few weeks after my son's birth I thought that I could never do this again. But after about a month I started to become obsessed with the idea of future pregnancies - and that despite the fact that taking care of my son still feels like an all-consuming and exhausting task. In fact, my desire to be pregnant again seems to be stronger than that of many friends who had perfectly "normal" deliveries. (By the way, I understood your question to be about future pregnancies, rather than future children. I think these are two fundamentally different questions.)
Unfortunately, I can't attribute my desire for another pregnancy to any noble motives. (I can, however, come up with all sorts of very good and rational reasons for having more children.) I just think that there are few experiences as thrilling as being pregnant and giving birth to a child. I've certainly never had any desire to parachute out of a plane or pull any other scary physical stunts. In fact, I'm about as risk-averse as one can be. I've also never felt compelled to put myself through the trial of a marathon. But in many ways I think that my desire for pregnancy is motivated by the same feelings that I imagine must motivate sky divers and marathon runners. I'm sure there is a risk level at which I would not feel comfortable with another pregnancy but as long as I feel that the risks are manageable and reasonable I will give it another try. The reward is certainly far superior to that of any other physical stunt.
Something I haven't seen mentioned, but I'd like to add to address some of the comments about bad pregnancy/labor/delivery:
What about finding a doula to be with you on the journey of getting pregnant all the way through delivering? The research shows very strongly that there are better outcomes for mother and baby, plus you might not feel so alone...and have a more satisfying birth experience. I am a doula, and if I could, I'd be there for all of you....
What do I want? I want to be a mommy again. I look at P and fall head-over-heels in love. Although we've made the decision to stop TTC and pursue adoption right now, my heart desperately yearns to be pregnant again. It's not a biological connection that I want so badly--donor eggs wouldn't bother me at all (though that's not likely to solve our issues). It's knowing that I wouldn't miss a minute of my child's life, before or after birth. While I look forward to adopting, and we've made the decision to adopt a toddler, I'm mourning the fact that I'm going to miss a year or two of his life, not to mention the pregnancy aspect. P had a personality while I was pregnant that was amazingly similar to his personality once he was born. I won't know much of anything about the little boy who's going to be my next son, my son's little brother, until we meet him. He'll probably already be walking and possibly talking, and I'll never know what he was like in the time before I meet him. That saddens me a lot.
And to look at him...how could I not want another one? To be given such a precious gift is a miracle. I know that you feel the same way about Charlie. I never envisioned myself as the mother of one (actually, there was a long time where I envisioned myself as having a childfree life--once I started picturing having kids, it was always a large family). That longing didn't go away after we had P...if anything, it intensified. Being a mom has been better than I ever imagined--watching my child learn and grow is incredible. Now that I know how amazing it is, I want to do it again even more than I did in the first place.
De-lurking to post.
What I wanted: a child. At first, I thought that it had to be of my genetic make up, because really, why the fuck would anyone bother to raise a child that wasn't really theirs?
What happened: Infertility. Diagnosis: unexplained. Treatment: One failed IUI. Then I gave up and adopted. I gave up early because the thought of my mind going nuts with hormone shots would ruin me. Someone said the words "mucus plug" to me and I got all squicked out. Another friend talked to at length about her mastitis, and I was certain that pregnancy was not for me.
What I learned: The moment I held my son in my arms, at the orphange where we picked him up, I learned that babies are magic. They make you love them. And you love them no matter where they came from. Sometimes someone will ask me if I would love him more if he were my son by birth. My love for him is so far beyond rational, that I cannot imagine loving anyone else more. Genetics? Who cares? Babies are magic.
Why this is relevant: I think you need to figure out what you want. Do you want another child? Or do you want a successful pregnancy?
If you're willing to consider donor egg, then a loyal reader could draw the conclusion that the pregnancy is just as important, if not MORE important, than the result. Why is that?
I don't agree with the posters here who have said that pregnancy is a universal instinct/desire for all women. It wasn't for me. Maybe I'm just the exception that proves the rule.
So I'm going to ask the question that's destined to make me the least popular person who ever posted on this blog, framed as follows. Given your medical history, you are very aware that another pregnancy risks your life. My husband's father was killed when my husband was five. Every day I am faced with the damage that he lives with as a result of losing a parent.
Why are you willing to risk your life and leave Charlie a motherless child? Why is being pregnant that important? Because babies are out there to be adopted. If it's a baby you want, then a baby you can have. But it seems like the pregnancy itself is the sticking point. Why is that, all things considered?
I'm not sure if you were asking, "those of you long to be pregnant again, why do you want what you want?" (and if so, I'm not supposed to comment), or "whatever you want, why do you want what you want?" (which is what I will answer). I think that most people are reading the question in the former way, because I know there are more of us out here who aren't aching for a second chance than are represented here.
I theoretically wanted three kids, four or five years apart. Yet I didn't want it badly enough to start the process in time, or to do it with the wrong person.
I longed for a child, but not specifically for pregnancy. I didn't much like pregnancy and didn't do a great "job" at it. Same thing for childbirth. And whatever I expected having a tiny baby to be like, it was of course different.
I do feel the urge to have a do-over in some ways -- I'll have a cuter bump this time! I'll sneak food during labor! No forceps! An easier baby! But I also have a strong sense that all of that is so out of my control that it's a fantasy. I could have an awful pregnancy, a crash c-section, a NICU stay, a child with terrible problems. I could have PPD. The kids could fight. They might grow up to be assholes. And no one else's story about how they had a wonderful second pregnancy/baby changes my chances in any way. (And neither does the fact that my kid is outrageously wonderful.)
I guess I'm on Paul's side on this one. I would not agree to let my husband do something dangerous just because he had the urge to. I know women whose husbands mountain climb, sky dive, whatever, and they don't object because "it's who he is! It's what he needs!" Well, my father had a deep urge to ride a motorcycle, and he's dead now, and damn do I wish my mother had asked him not to.
Whatever your decision ultimately is this is I think how I would express what you seem to think you're not. :)
Your gestational system has fertility issues
Your heart and spirit do not.
Julie,
Once, when I was a teenager - I cut my hair. I had long perfect Highschool Senior Hair - all of my friends wanted it, which was of course why I kept it long (envy is a badge of honor at that age)... Anyways after cutting my hair I was told so many times "Ughhh why did you do that, you look like your brother" that I started to get a little sensitive about it. My mom told me something to cope with the drama that has always haunted me "Sweetie, you only have so many renewable resources in life - use 'em to your advantage. Do what you feel is right..." Okay so haircuts and possible human life have nothing to do with each other, but those words ran thrigh my head as I was deciding to test my fate and have children, against the odds. That sense within us that we are renewable... The newness of a your baby's smile, their smell, their noises.... I would give life and limb to do it again - no mattter what a doctor told me. The fact that your child is healthy & happy - alive despite struggle, is reason enough to long for another one. Whether you're jaded or naive - no mother could resist the possibility of loving "another one." It is your right to your own renewable resource that makes your desires justified. Having a family (whether biological or otherwise) is one of the few things that all of us want. Medically modivated logic aside, to have another is justified simply because it is what you want.
I feel that urge for another child too. I can see her, imagine her. It probably doesn't help that my first pregnancy was a miscarriage, and she was a girl. Now I have twin boys and they are absolutely wonderful. I love them so incredibly much. But would it be fair to them? They have already had to share all of their baby time with each other. They compete for attention. If we had another baby, they would have even less Mom and Dad time. Plus my age makes it unlikely without doing IVF again.
My husband says absolutely not, and I am going along with that. I guess I feel like, if I am meant to have her, she will pop up unexpectedly. If she doesn't, it wasn't meant to be. And we are using birth control, but not the pill, so technically it could happen accidentally. But I am not expecting it. I think leaving that little window open is going to have to be enough for me. Eventually it will close and hopefully by then I will have reconciled myself to it.
I didn't answer your question. I don't really know why I want it. I even know it would make life much much harder, and I still want it. But I'm not going to have it, most likely. I hope somehow you do have the second child you want.
I go through the same thing. I sit in my fertility support group sometimes and wonder if secretly they think it is fucked up that I am killing myself for number two when they don't have number one. Just like I never thought I would face infertility, I never, ever thought I would have only one. I feel the same way. I want it. Desperately.
Men and women see it differently. Men fear loss, college fees, "provide and protect" things. We see things in layers and years- the
joys (and fights) and support of siblings, the
excitement of "what will we get?" in each pregnancy, the pressures that inevitably fall
soley on the head of an only child.
There is no real way to articulate a Scientific argument for "why" you want another child. You know you do. That is all you need to know.
Do not stop believing that if one can...
Do not stop believing ... the miracles exist!
Do not lower the arms...
Continue!
There is a difference between the reasons that Paul will accept (logical ones) for having another child and what drives you to want one.
I don't think there are many men out there that have that primal need to be a parent the way women do. (My husband, for example, certainly does not have it.)
When you say to a woman, "I want another baby because I just want one," she totally understands and most likely will support that. Men not so much.
And most of us can list reasons why we want one. I can certainly list lots of reasons, from wanting a sibling for my son to wanting more of the joy he has brought to my life to having always wanted at least two children. But in the end, for me at least, it all comes back to some primal need that cannot be quantified on a spreadsheet or explained in a list of logical factors. It is all subjective.
Why do I want what I want?
Because the wanted things bring me joy. Because they are more me than the me that walks around in the real world every day.
So here's a question for you (from a person who had similar discussions with her husband about whether to try for number 2 or not): Do you want to understand why you want it, or are you looking for a logical reason that will make sense to Paul? Or is finding the first a necessary step in getting to the second?
I am not sure I can explain my absolute need either, but I know after losing my son 14 years ago, a miscarriage and now trying for a year, the drive is so strong that it takes my breathe away.
Even after the horrible pregnancy and hemoraging and almost dying I still need to be a mom again. I didn't get the chance to be a mommy to my baby so I want that chance more than anything. If I could trade all the year since for just another hour, I would.
What do I want what I want?
Because it's not OK to have unfulfilled dreams. It's not OK to look back on your life and have regrets because you couldn't be bothered to try, especially when there is such a small (and dwindling down even smaller) window of time.. Those 'what ifs' will kill your spirit down the road.