The Baby Dance.

There comes a time in a young couple's life when the subject of increasing the size of their brood becomes a pretty heavy topic, and an important consideration. Recently it has become a hotter topic for little J. Apparently he has been praying long and hard, and G-d has finally answered his prayers to give he and Ju Ju the sisters he's always wanted. Yes, you read correctly. Sisters. It has come to my beloved five year old that I should prepare myself, because G-d is granting his wish of giving him the sisters he has so desperately been praying for. A nightly affirmation he has been giving me for the past two weeks. As much as I applaud my child for his belief in Hashem, and his relationship with him, I can't help but think to myself, "If only it could be that easy".

For our family, this has been a topic of conversation for every cycle since having our last miscarriage, one year ago. I've had miscarriages. It is no secret to many who know me. Nor is it any secret in the blogosphere. I've had two to be precise, and although neither were easy, the last one was decisively... well...HARD! It was hard emotionally, because it was to be our last try at completing our family unit. We had always wanted to have at least 5 children, but after two c-sections and the first miscarriage, that number became three. Three was a good number. We could do three. I mean Ju Ju already had the makings of a middle child. So, why not? Why not give him a chance to truly embody the personality of middle child syndrome, no? So we tried. And we failed. Or at least, I felt as if I did. I mean as a woman, isn't it biologically engrained in us to be able to do what nature and G-d has intended us to do? Bring life into the world. It should be effortless. At least many think so. And a good number of people do do it effortlessly. But alas it is not. At least not for us. I've suffered from both loss and secondary infertility. Nor is it for some of my friends, who still struggle with infertility, or the inability to carry to term. It was an emotional strain that we are still rebuilding from. A loss no matter when it happens can be daunting on any couple, and for us lightening had striked... TWICE; leaving us vulnerable and empty, trying desperately to cling to our boys for comfort, but not each other.

It was also draining mentally and physically. I felt as if that miscarriage sparked an array of events that caused my miserable months of illness. After all that moment when my angel baby ripped itself from my body, never to be seen or held, is the source of (or worsened)  my anemia. In hindsight, I realize that it happened for a reason. I did get ill rather quickly after it occurred, which to me was a sign that I was not equipped (health wise) to carry a child. May be it was a blessing in disguise. A way of letting me know that I wasn't well. A way to tell me that it wasn't just pregnancy woes I was feeling, but deficiencies in essential vitamins and nutrients I needed. So, in short, I've come to terms with it. It still hurts. On any given day you could ask either the Hubby or I, and we could tell you without falter how old our angel baby would be today. And even after a year has passed, we're still adjusting. We've worked hard to work through it all. And with working through the pain, confusion, and all of our emotions comes desire. And with that desire comes an anxiety that I can't seem to overcome.

I am not saying that I don't have any desire for more children, in fact it is the exact opposite. I DO want more children, but I seem to be lack luster in the excitement of wanting that to occur biologically like the rest of my family. My entire vacation has been spent listening to the well meaning advice of my elders, family members and friends, deciding my future fertility,  I believe, just as easily as little J has seemed to have done, with an affirmation that yes, we should try for a little girl, or another child in general. And with each passing word, I can't help but give a polite smile and "No".

I'd adopt at the drop of a hat, but I can not muster the strength to bring myself to undertake the ordeal of another pregnancy. I think I've exhausted all my excuses as to why it's not a good idea, minus the truth...I can't give over the anxiety and paranoid feelings attached to it, which leaves me decidedly weak. A feeling I have never thought I would feel so strongly. For ages I've told myself, and have been told that, "I'm super woman. I can do it all, right?" But apparently I can not. I'm paralyzed by fear, by the unknown, and in those moments I chastise myself as I see all my friends pregnant, beautiful in all of their pregnant glory, for not being brave enough. For not being strong enough to let go and give my family more love to hold onto.  I mean, why can't I give it even the old drunken, college try? I mean the girls on shows like 16 and pregnant have gotten it all down to a science. Even so, not even a night of drink was able to persuade me into forgoing my apprehensions for another one. I mean, why can't I just throw caution to the wind? Why can't I be excited by the prospect? And not feel relief at the sight of a negative result as I have done months before, when I realized that my bloating was in fact a sign of my impending friendly visit. A hurt to my husband, I wish I never caused.

I am sorry to him. I am sorry for him as he grows closer to the idea of adoption, but his hope for another biological child diminishes. Although he is a wonderful father, it is difficult to give him this gift of another life in our home. which he truly deserves. And as we grow closer after our difficulties, my desire also increases, and the fears follow suit, leaving me with a gnawing feeling of weakness and irrationality. The what ifs come over me like a tidal wave, and just as fast as the desire had come, it is buried just the same.Overall, I am exhausted. I am exhausted over my inability. I am exhausted that I have not managed to accumulate the strength I usually seem to effortlessly carry.

I hope that my son may forget his nightly routine of letting me know what G-d has "said to him". I hope that my husband is able to have patience. I hope that he is able to be forgiving.  I hope that I may be able to get over my fears. I hope that we are able to have the faith and strength to be able to handle what ever Hashem will bring us. Most of all, I hope that we are able to continue in our happiness,whether that means with just the two children we have, or more.