The day was August 1. The husband and I stole away for a few minutes while the baby slept. Chris said the fateful words, “That one got you pregnant.” Maybe it’s too much detail for y’all, but this man is prophetic! Ames was nine months old when we conceived this baby. This was my third cycle after Ames’ birth. I’d just gotten used to dealing with the idea that I could get pregnant again. Although we had talked about “the next one” a few times, I was not mentally prepared.
Christopher was, though. In fact, that man would be happy if we had three more. He even offered to build bunk beds that fold out of the wall – it’d give our kids’ rooms a bunkhouse-like feel. Cozy, right? Anyway, this day was fourteen of my cycle. We conceived Ames on day fifteen. In the back of my mind, I knew what I was getting myself into. I just figured if we were careful enough, we’d avoid the obvious. Apparently, Fertile Myrtle & Fertile Frank conceived another lil’ Kincaid that afternoon!
I kept going back and forth on whether I thought I was actually pregnant. I knew only time would tell, but that didn’t stop me from taking several pregnancy tests several days early. I mean, c’mon – Chris had spoken the words! And to top it off, I had a confused patient at work randomly blurt out, “I hope it’s a boy!” as I assessed her on the day I was due to start my period.
I worked all weekend and forgot to freak out. When I realized I still hadn’t used the girls-only equipment I’d stored in my bag, I checked my calendar. Day thirty-one. I’m a twenty-eight day girl without fail. I bought a pregnancy test on my way home (I’d used up my reserves, remember?) and warned Chris ahead of time. I dropped my bags just inside my front door and made a beeline for the bathroom. Chris tried to stop me. He’s always wanted these moments to be super special.
I grabbed the baby and took him into the bathroom with me. For some reason, I wanted a cushion – protection from Christopher, from the thought of sharing this boy with a younger sibling, from the pee stick. I managed to snuggle him on my lap while I handled my business. Can I get an amen from all the other multi-tasking mamas? I dropped the stick on the floor (after capping it, of course), washed my hands, and stood there – holding Ames & my breath.
It took less than ten seconds for that blue plus-sign to appear. It was still brightening up when I busted out of the bathroom and shoved it in Chris’ face, tears streaming down my face. Chris exclaimed, “Are you crying because it’s negative or are you crying because it’s positive?!” I told him to look at it and headed up the stairs with Ames. I was sobbing by the time he found me in the nursery.
I was scared to share Ames. I was scared to share Chris with yet another kid. I was scared to have morning sickness again. I was scared to have postpartum depression again. I wasn’t healed yet, physically. I wasn’t healed yet, emotionally. I didn’t have enough paid-time-off for a full maternity leave. It wasn’t our turn yet. We have friends working really hard to get pregnant. What would our family say?
Christopher let me vent a little, and then he moved in and worked his magic. He poured affirmations over me. I was born to be a mother. I was an excellent mother. I would handle another pregnancy as beautifully as the last. He would be there to share the load, every step of the way. And the most important thing he shared – there would be enough. There would be enough love to share with another baby. It would grow exponentially. And when I watched one of my babies love on another, something would explode in my heart. He informed me that I only had a glimpse of that feeling, mothering his two children from a prior marriage and only one of my own. But he said that I would soon know. And it would be beautiful.
Over the last few months, I’ve dealt with with a lot of emotions. I’m still not where I was last time. But I think that’s okay. I’m taking steps to protect myself. I’m taking a full twelve weeks off from work this birth, as opposed to the measly five I took with Ames. I’m being honest with my emotions and communicating them to my husband. We’re saving money through a pre-paycheck transfer, so we never even miss it (other than the fact that we can’t eat out as often – boo). We’d originally talked about letting this baby’s gender be a surprise, but now I’m thinking that finding out might help me connect to this pregnancy more. I still haven’t decided, but we have an ultrasound next week and I’ll figure it out by then.
The estimated due date is April 24, 2011. Ames was born on October 24, 2009. They’ll be eighteen months apart, possibly to the day.
Perfect for the type-A mom like me!
Perfect for the type-A mom like me!
So that’s the story! We are now eighteen weeks pregnant, the size of a bell pepper or a sweet potato. I am now (mostly) morning sickness-free, praise the Lord! I’m measuring a couple of weeks ahead, and I’m having some weird pain and tender spots that my midwife wants me to get checked out at the ultrasound. Fetal heart tones are easily obtained with a doppler, and I’ve even used the one at work once or twice to listen to the lil’ thing’s whooshing heartbeat during my twelve-hour days.