Long Post Alert!

A little background:

We got pregnant for the first time in November 2016. We were both so excited, and surprised as we hadn’t been trying that long. We were both 36 at the time, and I was feeling the clock starting to tick...so I was over the moon! 3 weeks after the positive test, we went in for our first ultrasound. That day we found out it was an ectopic pregnancy, baby was in my right Fallopian tube, and that there was no way the baby could survive. We were devastated. It took a few months for us to come out of our grief and talk about trying again.

We got pregnant again in January 2018. We were scared of a repeat ectopic, but started to breathe easier after the first ultrasound. This pregnancy went so well, until the 35th week. Our baby was fine, but I developed preeclampsia, and I was put on bed rest. At 37 weeks, my blood pressure spiked up and I was induced.

My induction started at 11:30pm. Labor was slow to start and progress. They broke my water, which does things up a little, but not much. I was unable to move around because they wanted both of us monitored so closely. By about 8:00pm the next night, I had only progressed to 4cm, and the contractions were coming back to back. I finally caved and got an epidural. About an hour later, I started to feel fuzzy. I called in a nurse and told her I didn’t feel well. The next thing I knew, the head of the bed was tipped down (I had passed out), and the nurse was calling for help. Her exact words as I was coming to were “I need some hands in here, I’ve got a baby down.” My sons heart had stopped. My blood pressure tanked to 74/30. I looked at my husband, and he just stared back at me, terrified. The next little bit is blurry, I mostly recall lots of people moving around the room, and then someone’s voice saying “There he is. He’s back”. And the sound of my baby’s heartbeat filling the room. We were relieved, but scared that this could happen again. Things moved swiftly after that. My son was born at 10:10pm via Cesarean.

8lbs 15oz and 19” long at 37 weeks gestation.

At my 6 week follow up appointment, my doctor advised waiting at least 6 months, preferably a year before trying to get pregnant again. My husband laughed and said “Yeah, that’s not a problem. I don’t think I can go through that again. I thought you were both going to die. I stood there watching, and thought I was watching life as I knew it end.” I think we were both a little traumatized by the events of that day for a good long while. I wasn’t in any hurry to get pregnant again right away.

Our boy is now 10 months old. He is healthy, happy, and SO loved. He’s in to everything, constantly moving, loves his books, and is such a chatterbox. I know it sounds cliché, but being his Momma is the greatest joy of my life.

And now I find myself thinking about expanding that joy. Having another baby, giving my son a sibling, I think about it. A LOT. I have tried talking to my husband about it, but he shuts down the conversation pretty quickly. He is still feeling that trauma. I asked him point blank “Do you not want another baby because of everything that happened, or because you genuinely don’t want another child?” He said “20% is that I’m not sure I want or that we could afford another baby at this point. 80% is that I’m scared that you’ll have another ectopic. Or what if you have to go on bed rest again? Or what if something happens again in the labor/delivery?” I’m not looking for a way to talk him in to something he genuinely doesn’t want. But I want him to at least think about it. I go to the doctor for my annual exam in October. I figure I’ll talk to her about the risks, chances, etc at that appointment. Then present the facts to him.

If our wonderful family of 3 is as big as our family is meant to be, I will be ok with that. But I’d like the chance to try for more. Is it selfish? Stupid? I don’t know.

If you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading my rant. I really just needed to get this out. My best friend doesn’t understand. She has one child, and can’t imagine having another. My mom says she understands, but I feel like she might agree with my husband: the medical concerns scare her. They scare me a bit too. But not enough to keep me from wanting to try anyway.