I was hoping this post wouldn't be so heavy. I was relieved to turn the calendar to May after spending a lot of time in April working through my emotions about my birth experience and recovering physically. Truth be told, I spent a lot of time feeling sorry for myself. It didn't seem fair. Other people I know who have had cesareans seemed to have recovered much more quickly. It was really discouraging and I felt pretty down. At the same time, I also felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for my three healthy kids. Things haven't been easy but they could definitely be much worse.
This week I read one of the most touching blog posts I've come across on A Cup of Jo about Mara's story of infertility and deciding to move on to a life without children. It was weird because having just given birth to my third child and never struggling with infertility, at first glance it seemed like a story that couldn't be farther from my own reality. Surprisingly, so much of it resonated with me on a deep level. I'm on the other end of the spectrum now.
My twenties have been a blur of pregnancy and babies with a dash of education and career. I've had so many defining experiences as far as pregnancy, birth, and motherhood go:
A premature baby.
Two full-term babies.
A medicated birth (epidural).
An un-medicated birth.
The most medical form of birth (a cesarean).
Successfully breastfeeding each of my two oldest boys the better part of their first years and now Noah.
Though we are still fresh from birth, I look at Noah and I know he is my last baby. We've been through a lot in his nearly 1 month on the outside. Before he was born or even conceived, R and I talked about 3 being our limit. I haven't been advised medically not to have more children but the cesarean and complications have been enough to extinguish even the tiniest bit of desire to have more. Enough to make me count my blessings. I know it sounds terrible but as I was on the stretcher amidst all the chaos, trying not to push, and hoping we'd make it to the operating room, for a brief second, it crossed my mind that I might not make it through the experience - that I wouldn't be there for my family and to see the boys grow up. I felt guilty and selfish for putting my life in danger when I had two little boys at home and a husband that needed me. I need them too.
I am big on control. Before Noah, life was in some degree of limbo. You know when people say their lives were incomplete before they met the love of their life or had children? I really did feel like something was missing. Life was full of "what ifs" up until now, like.. what if we only have one child..then two..would we have a daughter or all boys..and what about spacing. I feel a sense of relief now, like Mara, having a sense of certainty that we're done. I