Almost a year has passed since I took the pregnancy test that
would change my life. A text message to my best friend of, “WTF is THIS?! Don’t
tell a soul!” with a picture of two positive tests was how I announced how I
felt. I kept it secret from my husband for a week before I said anything. I
wasn’t sure how to feel, and all I really felt was an impending sense of “my
life as I know it is over.”
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| 39 weeks |
Fast forward fifteen months and I’m comfortably living in my
new normal. Charlotte is walking, learning new words every day and amazes me
just as much as she frustrates. She’s at the age where we, as parents, are
finally starting to feel like we have some freedom back. The stage where we are
no longer breastfeeding but eating solids, walking around, not having blow out
diapers and taking naps on a regular schedule. We can leave the house a little
bit faster and don’t have to pack everything but the kitchen sink to do so. We
feel alright about leaving her with a babysitter and don’t worry every second
that we are gone. As Charlotte has grown so have my husband and I and we can’t
help but marvel at what we created.
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| at one year old |
Which begs the question, “Is it time to ruin all our
newfound freedom?”
Having a second baby. It’s something that people have asked
us if we are “having” like it’s a question of what to eat for dinner. “Are you
having a second baby?” “Any thoughts on having more?”
What people are really be saying is, “You both look like you
are still having too much fun in your lives, isn’t it time you surrendered the
thought of ever being or doing anything cool again?”
So here’s the truth, yes I’ve thought about it. I think
about it all the time. Not so much the having another baby part but the actual
pregnancy. I am in the phase where many of my friends are pregnant for the
first time and I’m waiting and watching the excitement they are going through.
If you’ve read my other blogs you know I really never had a desire to be
pregnant. Yes I knew I wanted a baby at some point but it wasn’t what my heart
desired most in this world. Some women are born to be moms and they seek their
joy in being pregnant. Before having my baby, I was in the take it or leave it
mindset. If it happened to me, great and if not, I wouldn’t have been too upset
with my body. Now, however, after having gone through it, knowing the process
of pregnancy and how my body responds to being pregnant and labor I find myself
missing it. It’s the same feeling I get when I see people that have climbed
mountains I’ve already summited. I’m happy for them, I can relate because I’ve
been on that journey and part of me wishes I was there with them myself.
Here comes the part where I must remind myself not to romanticize
pregnancy. Putting your body through carrying a baby is a lot of stress. There
was the heartburn, round ligament pain and sciatica nerve pain shooting through
my right leg. My skin broke out, I had to pee all the time and of course there
was the frustration of not fitting into anything I owned. I couldn’t do
backbends in yoga or race mode in spin. I couldn’t twist, rock climb, water
ski, snow ski or run. In the beginning I was nauseated all the time and at the
end I couldn’t keep anything down because there was no room. Flying and staying
in hotel rooms was awful as I could never find comfort to sleep and standing
all day made my feet swell. I hated waddling and having people stare at me. Now
I’m the one who finds myself staring at pregnant women. I remember what that
was like and part of me misses it.
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| one day old, she was pretty snuggly then |
I guess what I really miss was the secret of it all. How no
one knew in the beginning and even at the end no one could really feel the baby
kick or move but myself. I miss hearing her heartbeat at the midwife
appointments and the anticipation of what she’d be like. Now that Charlotte is
here she is so wonderful and amazing but I don’t have her with me 24 hours a
day like before. She’s becoming more independent and sometimes waves my hand or
help away. For the first 8 months all she wanted was pretty much me and to be
breastfed and now she’ll let strangers hold her and she literally laughs if I
show her my boobs (she’s over it). Charlotte is not me, she’s not my husband,
she’s her own person with her own opinions about hummus and climbing stairs and
sitting still.
Yet one is easy. One means biking to breweries on Saturday
afternoons and eating from food trucks. One means having a babysitter for
concerts at Red Rocks and hopping on planes around the country. One means I can
focus on my business, Yogi Magee Expeditions and plan retreats and hikes for
the future and make money. One means we can buy a two bedroom house and still
afford vacations and treating ourselves. One means I can teach yoga and 5am
bootcamp and afternoons at the pool. We have climbed our mountain and are
enjoying the view from the summit…do we really want to climb back down and up
all over again?
Maybe is all I can say. Who knows if we will even be able to
climb again even if we want to? In mountaineering hesitation leads to accidents
and bad decisions. So maybe we sit at the top and wait for a while and enjoy
the view. It’s truly a wonderful view. Yet I still feel a little jealous of the
climbers below on their quest….and you know what?
That’s OK.
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