So after MacKenzie was born, I struggled with REALLY bad postpartum depression. I ended up staying in the hospital for a week. At that time, many nasty things were said to me, by hospital staff, by random strangers, and even by close friends and family. Things like “You can’t have any more children… Just look at how much trouble you caused after the last one!!” Or “You need to just get over whatever religious problems you have [with birth control pills] and take a pill already! You obviously can’t keep from getting pregnant, and you don’t want to end up here again, do you?”
Of course, they are right. I don’t want to go down that dark road again. I don’t want to be separated from my children because of my incompetence as a childbearing woman. I do want another baby. I want another child to pour my heart into.
No. Before you state the “logical” side, please tell me when the last time “Logic” dictated whether you had a crush on that cute jock in the front row, or cried over that movie that had a sad ending, or… Well, you get the idea. I KNOW that it isn’t logical. I know that it probably isn’t a good idea. What I can’t get over is the pain of knowing that I can’t do it because I’m not a good enough woman to hold myself together when the big D comes knocking.
I want another baby. I really do. No, this has nothing to do with all the other babies I’ve been seeing lately, or with anything else I could mention. I wanted another baby the day MacK was born. I knew I wasn’t done. But my husband is… So I am.
My Love Life
Holding her in your arms for the first time
Counting her tiny fingers and toes,
This little piggy, peek-a-boo
Love
Changing his diaper and cooing
Laying cheek to cheek before bed
Skin to skin, nursing sounds
Love
Changing sheets in the middle of the night
Emptying the potty training chair
Washing three loads if clothes
Love
Forgetting the dishes to play with Legos
Hanging the kids on the line in your shirt
Jumping on the trampoline
Love
Homework at the kitchen table
Burning your hand on the stove
Eating out instead of burnt food,
Love
Handing over the car keys
Debating politics
Crying over a boyfriend
Love
College exams time. No more emails
Checking Facebook every day
Care packages
Love
Wedding gown and rented tux
A ring handed down for vows exchanged
Giving her away
Love
Moving him to a bigger place
His wife is expecting a baby
Showering with gifts
Love
Hospital beds with flowers from friends
The grand kids in your arms for the last time
Counting heads and saying goodbye
Love
To write for hope 