Well, I think for once, I'd like to have a post about me, about something I'm going through outside of SD and his situation.
I found out on 12/12/12 that my doctor will not give me the okay to ever conceive another child because of the medical problems I suffered from during and after pregnancy.
Apparently because of my sacroiliac joints being separated and more than likely already developing arthritis, he said that i would probably end up on bed rest at the beginning of my second trimester. Even then, the pain would be excruciating and grow more intense with every little bit of weight the fetus gained. With my sacroiliac joints being separated, he also would not allow me to attempt a VBAC (Vaginal Birth after Cesarean) like I wanted to nor would any sane doctor in my state. Then he informed me of the risk of a repeat c-section. He also informed me that with my blood pressure never returning to normal after AK was born after having preeclampsia in the pregnancy, that he was willing to bet money I'd develop it again only more severe. So, here was my options.
A) Conceive. Have three months of walking freedom that would probably be crippled by morning-noon-night sickness, then go on bed rest and spend six months, if I were lucky enough to carry to term on bed rest and be in horrible pain probably leading to me being prescribed a narcotic and drugging my fetus. Then having to be admitted in the High Risk Maternity Ward AGAIN with preeclampsia and stay there until the fetus is born which could mean another premature child that would probably be in the NICU much longer than LO due to a more severe case of preeclampsia.
B) Be responsible for once in my life...Truly responsible for myself, my child, and my family...And have a tubal ligation.
When I chose to keep my son, I promised that I would never knowingly place myself in danger and do my best to stay alive for him unless it was his life at stake. My son can live without a brother, but he cannot live fully without a mother. I chose to schedule the tubal ligation.
My heart broke. I held back tears as I signed the paperwork for them to bill my insurance. I choked as I strapped my son into his car seat. I cried as I drove home.
I want another child. I won't say 'wanted' because I still do. I am only tying my tubes because it is what's best for me and my family. That's what hurts. If I didn't want another child, whatever, they won't be used. But I want another baby, I want another son or a baby girl. I wanted to experience the kicking, the movements, the ultrasounds, the experience of seeing my baby for the first time ever, holding that child and knowing that I gave them life and they were redefining my own. It makes me cry now, just thinking about it.
I know my husband was so dissapointed. AK is not biologically his child as much as we would love to pretend so. He was hoping to give AK a brother or sister, and now he can't because of me. But then, we just...We got on that same level. We talked a little more deeply into adoption and what we were hoping to find in a child, as well as different methods to introduce it to AK. We talked about which characteristics were important, and which ones were not influential to a decision.
But to fully understand why I am not giving in to my whims and refusing the tubal, you must know that I believe everything happens for a reason. While I do not believe in a Christian God, nor a God of any other religion, I do believe that the universe guides us to discover wisdom. On December the 13th, one day after my appointment, I was still feeling horrible. I was on my way to a friend's house with my husband and son, and driving past my grandparent's house. Now, my grandpa almost died over summer, was given a 20% chance of survival and was just released a few months ago. There was an ambulance in the driveway. I pulled in, parked the car, and closed the door. I didn't slam it, at all. And yet the glass in my door shattered. I didn't care, ran in anyway and saw my grandpa sitting at the table, talking. He was fine, his heart rate just rose a little. I was so relieved that he was okay, I didn't and still don't care about the window.
That's what the universe was trying to show me. Why should I allow the things that can't be fixed in my life to influence me so badly that I forget all the things that I'm blessed to have? I shouldn't.
If I'm meant to have another child, then when we're ready to have another child, there will be a child waiting for us. And we will find that child. Maybe I'm not meant to be the person to give birth to that kid, but I am meant to be his or her mother...
Things will be okay.
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