Scott and I have “officially” decided to start trying to have another baby. As in, we literally took the plunge this weekend so there is no going back now…
…And I am scared shitless.
I constantly question and “what if” every other decision in my life, so obviously, I would question this one. I don’t question mine and Scott’s ability to parent. I question the circumstances and situations surrounding us.
Are we really ready for this? Is there ever really a good time? Can I handle two kids under the age of two? What if my post partum depression comes back? Wait…it has never really disappeared…What if I have another miscarriage? Could I really cope with that? What if I don’t have a healthy pregnancy? What if I don’t have a healthy baby? What if something goes wrong in delivery? How am I going to share my love with two kids and my husband? AND two dogs?!
I just wish I could enjoy SOMETHING about pregnancy. I know that as soon as I pee on the stick and see two pink lines, the worry is instantly going to kick in. I have already started praying every single night that I am going to have a happy, healthy, normal pregnancy and a happy, healthy normal baby. I even took it further and prayed that if I had multiples that I would still have a happy, healthy, normal pregnancy, and 2 (oh god, or 3) happy, healthy, normal babies. I felt I needed to cover all bases.
I’m scared I’m going to have multiples again. I lost the twins on 10/25/2013, so almost 2 years ago to the date. I have no idea how I would react to having multiples. More power to all yall momma’s out there that have multiples. You da real MVP. I would like to think I would be better equipped to have multiples this time around than the first time because I actually know what it takes to be a parent. But still, more than one at one time? Seems crazy.
It’s sad that I have to be so scared and anxious about everything. Like, I just want to be happy and enjoy things and embrace my pregnancy because it’s more than likely going to be my last. I want Raelynn to have a sister or a brother close in age to play with and then I’m done. Totally done. I cannot deal with the emotions of being pregnant again and wondering for 40 weeks if my baby is going to be okay in there.
I’m not even pregnant yet and look at all this shit I’m already worrying about. It’s really fucking exhausting.
The other thing that used to worry me that has now moved way down on my list of things to worry about is not having enough space. Our house is obviously not going to sell and we are more than likely going to lose the house we have a contract on and I don’t even care at this point. It’s obviously not meant to be and I’m okay with that. If it doesn’t sell by December then we are going to take it off the market and put it back on in the spring and pray to freaking God that it sells. Maybe there is a house that is going to come up for sale that is amazing with lots of land and a fence for the dogs and it’s going to be way cheaper than the house we have the contract on. That’s what I’m hoping for at least… I know He has a plan for us and it will all make sense in the end.
I hope this time around, I’m pleasantly surprised that my worry and anxiety is gone and I can actually enjoy.