A fellow June 2002 mommy just had her third daughter yesterday. She posts comments here occasionally, and I hope she doesn't mind I talk about her. I have to admit that this entire time I've known she was pregnant I've been holding my breath. I haven't been sad about her pregnancy, though I have been a bit jealous. But today, when I read the news that the baby had arrived safely, I let out a sigh of relief I didn't even know I'd been holding in.
I don't know...I guess I thought I would be immune from all the hysteria. It's kind of like when people tell you how hard it is to be a parent and you nod your head, but secretly think, "How hard could it be?" I guess I thought my brain would be different and I'd be able to acknowledge that what happened to us was a fluke and I wouldn't worry so much about every pregnancy I know about. But there it was...I had worried that something bad would happen to my friend and/or her baby. And I'm realizing I'm not above it all. Which leads me to my next problem...you had to know that was coming, right?
How in the world am I going to make it through another pregnancy? There will be no "safe point" after which I can breathe a sigh of relief. Every time I get the sniffles, I'm going to be calling the doctor. I'm going to be doing kick count charts and analyzing every single detail. I'm not sure I'm strong enough for that. I'm sure it's healthy to hold your breath for nine months.
Last night we talked with Sam about maybe having another baby. He was so thrilled to hear about baby Avery's arrival and he can't wait to see pictures (hint, hint). So we took the opportunity to float the idea past him. At first he said, "Yeah..and then I can share my trains with Baby Alex." Talk about cutting me to pieces.
We had to explain to him again that Baby Alex wouldn't come to live with us...that he had died and gone to heaven to be an angel. He looked crushed and only said, "oh...yeah." I worried, but asked anyway, "But how about trying for a different baby." His eyes lit up and he said, "Yeah! Maybe a red baby." At which point we had to explain that babies are not like Thomas trains and come in some different colors...but certainly not red, green or blue (we understand blue is an option...but not one we felt we should explain to him at this point).
It was somehow a relief to talk about it with him again. We had made previous similar attempts, but it somehow felt unresolved or unfinished between us. Maybe because we had never fully committed to the idea of trying again at that time. Now that we know we'd like to try again sometime, it's more of a...balanced?...conversation.
But more than that, it was a relief to see his excitement at seeing the pictures of the new baby. He was thrilled at the idea. I hope that excitement carries over for another year, because I'd love to see it directed at a little brother or sister. But I think we'll shoot for pink and rosy...instead of red. I think he'll probably accept that. I know Steve and I would LOVE that.