I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel sad lately. Weary.
I want to be pregnant SO BADLY. Yet I’m not. Everyone else I know is pregnant or just had a baby. Even my best friend is pregnant now. I am overjoyed for her. I love talking about pregnancy with her. I am extremely excited to find out if her baby is a boy or a girl, what the baby’s name will be, the baby’s personality, everything. I just wish I could shut off my brain. I want to be pregnant too.
I don’t know why my fertility has taken so long to return to normalcy. I had my first real postpartum period a week ago. Maybe I will ovulate this coming week. I hope. I keep remembering those long eight months it took me to get pregnant with Ada. I don’t want to wait eight months again. I haven’t used any birth control at all since Ada was born and I had hoped to be pregnant before now. Maybe part of my depressed feeling is the complete fear that it will take months again. I also have a terrible, horrible, quaking terror of another miscarriage at 12 weeks. I still haven’t emotionally healed from that. (It happened before Ada’s pregnancy.) Everything seemed well–growing belly, heartbeat on the doppler of 163 bpm, loads of nausea, sore boobs. Then one day right around 12 weeks I choked on my glass of water and coughed hard, and red blood started gushing out. No warning, no cramps, no spotting at all prior to that second. The placenta detached. I pray every day that it never happens to me again. I wouldn’t wish the physical or mental pain from that experience on my worst enemy.
I guess I just feel like so many things in my life are beyond my control at the moment. I mean, things in your life are always beyond your control to some degree, but even more so now than usual. Waiting to get pregnant is hard for me. I want to have a large family, and I don’t want my children all so far apart. I’m not willing to wean Ada over it–I loved child led weaning with Rosie. But at the same time I keep wondering what the plan is here.
One reason I like the idea of faith in God is the security of knowing that something greater than you has a plan. We aren’t just stumbling around blindly all over the face of the Earth. Sometimes, like now when I feel as if things are out of my control, I have lapses in faith.
Then I think to myself that it really doesn’t matter–what if, WHAT IF, I die and find out there is no God?
What if I find out that I lived my entire life believing in something that wasn’t real?
What if I die and that’s just it, there is no afterlife?
What will I have lost by having faith? I can’t think of anything, honestly. I will have gained reassurance, purpose, and direction, love, humility…and when I think of it that way I see no reason to let that doubt take over. I have nothing to lose by having faith and instead everything to gain. My life is going somewhere important, even if it doesn’t seem that way in this moment.
In the very least faith is reassuring in times of depression, at least for me.
I am also having a lot of anxiety waiting to see if Tyler will be hired on at his job. His three years of being a temp are up in October. The countdown is killing me. It’s like waiting for Christmas as a five year old, only worse. It’s so much more important than Christmas. It’s…essential. It’s everything we’ve been working for during the past three years. It’s the future. This should tie in with faith, I suppose. I’m just afraid he won’t get hired on for some reason and it will be hard, and scary, not to mention disappointing. I should just not think about it, but in addition to be anxious I am extremely excited about it. He will finally have a real permanent career job, where he can move up to better paying positions and have job security knowing he won’t get laid off, good insurance, and a retirement plan. Like a real grown up.
And moving, oh I shouldn’t even get started on that one. We went to look at another house that seemed WONDERFUL on the website listing. We only saw the outside of it, but that was enough. It was another vertical driveway leading down into a holler between two steep hills. The five acres had no flat or clear space. People that don’t live in mountainous or hilly areas don’t seem to understand when I describe this on my blog–imagine having no where to put your swing set. No where to ride bikes. No area flat enough for chicken coops. The house is on one cleared bulldozed patch and that’s it. The rest is just vertical earth. You walk out your front door and aside from your narrow gravel driveway there’s nothing unless you want to climb the side of giant wooded hill by holding on to tree branches and pulling yourself up. Yeah. Disappointing, again.
It seems there are no houses (besides old trailers) on nice useable pieces of land in our price range. That means we’ll have to wait until Tyler is hired on and then save up money. I want to cry. I just don’t want to live here, in this house with its tiny rooms, for any longer. I am thankful we own our own house. Don’t get me wrong. I just long for certain comforts, like a pantry or a room bigger than 9×10 feet, or a bedroom that can fit a dresser. I am going to resolve not to complain about it any longer. I just have to continue waiting. My day to move will come, assuming Tyler gets hired on in October.
I have lots of other things to be thankful for too. I’m loving this weird early spring. I’ve been throwing all of my anguish, anxiety, and depression into my garden. It had better be awesome this year. I’ve been digging and weeding for days. I put up fourteen fence posts by myself the other day. My garden consists of five 4×4 ft raised beds, plus a 17×1.5 foot strip of tilled ground down the middle of the garden area. I still have to finish weeding from the end of the year last year and the winter–Bermuda grass is horrible and never dies…not even with weed cloth, newspaper, and cardboard. It keeps popping back up and choking my garden plants. I also have to plan and build the gate for the fence. Ducks will not eat my produce before I do this year!!
I can barely type because my fingers are so sore and swollen from digging and weeding.
I’ve also got these two awesome little girls to be thankful for. I look at them and can’t help but long for more children.
Out of the blue the other day Rosie said to me, “Momma did you know you can talk to God in your head and He can hear you? I ask him every day for a baby brother to grow in your belly!”
I have no idea where she got any of that from, we haven’t really talked about it at all. Kids.
This is my mother-in-law’s new puppy Dax.
Ada actually bit into, chewed, and swallowed an orange. I was shocked!
Rosie is grown up and no longer a baby at all.
These evenings are like June summer evenings. I don’t know what to think!
You can see a part of my garden in progress here.
The girls found unattached garden hose sprayers and were playing with them.
I love them both so much.
I can’t help but imagine what a third baby would be like.