Here We Go Again

After Reese was born, I went through a short period of time where I didn’t know if I wanted any more children. That period started after a serious hemorrhage had me fearing for my life in the delivery room. It continued with a blistery, nightmarish introduction to breastfeeding, and it culminated in an episode of postpartum anxiety during which I spent several weeks trying to convince myself that diving out the window and running to Mexico in my pajamas was actually not a good idea. As I sat on my toilet fighting off another panic attack with my squirt bottle in one hand and a jar of Tucks pads in the other, I promised myself that I was never going to do this again.

Almost two years later, that time seems light years behind me. Eventually, the blisters healed, the anxiety faded, the stitches dissolved, and I finally started to look back and say, “I guess that wasn’t so bad.” Then Reese started to smile and coo and each milestone pushed the negative memories deeper into the recesses of my mind.

As I watched the most beautiful baby I had ever seen grow into the most beautiful toddler, I fell deeper in love each day. All of the “I’m never doing this again” moments like teething, whining, tantrums, and public embarrassment pale in comparison to kisses, cuddles, first words, and baby belly laughs. But I still experience plenty of both feelings, often in the same breath. As I make my third attempt to figure out why she’s crying while our dinner burns on the stove, I wonder, how could I possibly do this again? And then I sneeze and Reese says, “Bess you, Mommy” and I think, how could I not?

Last month, as I sat in our bathroom holding a positive pregnancy test, my excitement was interrupted by a brief resurgence of memories… the labor pains, the sleepless nights, the squirt bottle. Dear God, not the squirt bottle! Do I really want to do this all over again?

Suddenly, Reese emerged from our closet wearing my shoes and Matt's tie. “Bye-bye, Mommy. I go work,” she said as if she actually had somewhere to be. As I started to laugh and cry at the same time, she walked over to me and touched my cheek saying, “Mommy sad?”

“No, honey,” I answered. “Mommy’s happy. Mommy’s very happy.”

October 28, 2012… Here we go again!