I am content.
I am content.
I am content.
I repeat this to myself like a mantra as I scroll through my Facebook feed bursting at the seams with pregnancy photoshoots and various mom friends joyously announcing their pregnancies of baby number two. Someone’s going to be a big brother due in October! Staring at their ever growing bellies I begin to reminisce about my own pregnancy from over two years ago. I had never felt more beautiful and special in my life as I did when I was carrying my son in my womb. I allowed myself to stop and be present and get carried away in the amazingness that is the female body. I felt like a walking miracle and part of a club and secret world I had never known: Motherhood. Coming back to the reality of the present day I look down from the screen to my own semi flat belly, any minor protuberance can only be attributed to fat and flab, no baby.
“I can’t start over again” my husband’s own personal mantra whenever I feel brave enough to broach the subject for the twentieth time. “I just can’t. And I don’t think you really want to either.” Maybe he has a point. Adin was anything but an easy baby; endless months of colic and nonstop crying in the car whenever we would be forced to stop at a red light. It would be more than accurate and fair to say that my partner is suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder occurred from the first year of our son’s life. Just mentioning babies causes Brad to have flashbacks of both his wife and son hysterically crying. I will not discount his emotional trauma, however as a stay at home, extended breastfeeding, bed sharing, attachment parenting mother I have to say that if I survived, I believe he can too.
Beyond the social pressures, even in the abstract of social media, are our mothers. When are you going to have another baby already, is the tune sung in unison by our overbearing Jewish mothers, who never saw eye to eye on anything except our inherent need to continue procreating. My mother tells me that her and her Rabbi are in agreement that I should accidentally conceive with the belief that once I have the baby Brad will love him or her. Seriously?… I only become aware that my mother-in-law has been asking/demanding for baby number two when out of the blue my husband will randomly blurt out while watching Daniel Tiger with our son, I don’t understand how people have more than one kid, one is hard enough! The more he is pushed the farther and farther away he gets.
So, where does this leave me?
I will not secretly get pregnant.
I will not have a baby that is not completely wanted by both parties involved.
My desire remains the same, I want to have another baby.