I have been anticipating the return of my cycle for a while. While I’ve enjoyed the reprieve from the mood swing, the feeling of wearing a diaper for a week and so on, I’ve also missed the rhythm of that part of my body as well as the inevitable upswing in my desire for intimate relations with my husband. For the past year, my lady parts..(or the vulgar vagina, for you brave ones)…have been a cold, dry place that desired more alone time than even the most reclusive old man. Of course, the upswing in desire also means the upswing in potential pregnancy, especially when the highest peak of desire coincides with the most fertile time. Mother Nature sure knew what she was doing to ensure the continuation of our species! Having more children is something we don’t want, except when we think it may have happened. Most recently, despite our better judgement, we thought perhaps we’d be seeing two lines appear. This started a whirlwind of thoughts, emotions, discussions. The mere possibility of a pregnancy forces us to face what we truly think and want, deep in our cores.
After the initial “Oh crap!” moment, we start thinking about it. What if?
I think about the hardships we face now. I think about the late nights, lack of personal time, constant exhaustion and never ending to-do lists. I think about the diapers that have almost had it, the baby stuff we’ve gotten rid of, shoes and clothes and food for five children instead of four. I think about bedrooms, bathrooms, laundry and vehicles. I think about how I almost lost my mind for a while and only really started to feel like “me” again in the past several months. He thinks about money, working long hours to pay the bills so I can be home with the children. He thinks about the worry from a difficult pregnancy and scary (for him) postpartum hemorrhage. He thinks about each child getting their time, me getting my time, him getting his time and us getting our time.
And then, from somewhere else, we both think about the baby girl I imagined would join our family. We think about drunk milk smiles, cooing gurgles and chubby cheeks. We think about the love we feel for each of the children we have now and we think…what’s one more?
As we come to wrap our heads around the idea of having just one more child, even allowing ourselves to be a bit excited at the possibility, the bleeding starts, followed by tears. I am relieved and disappointed all in the same breath.