Decisions, Part II: The Last Time?

Am I really ready for this phase of my life to be over? There is no feeling in the world like a child moving within your body. Of making a life with someone who was once a total stranger, and being there together as you bring a new life into the world. Of holding a warm bundle snuggled in a blanket, close to your heart. The buttermilk smell of a newborn's breath. Toothless smiles. The sound of little coos and grunts.

There is nothing in the world like watching a child learn. Lke seeing them reach milestones. Like witnessing first steps and first words. Like seeing a personality form before your very eyes. Expressions of glee at a new discovery. Sloppy toddler kisses. Chubby baby fingers learning to manipulate an adult world.

There is nothing like watching them get on the school bus for the first time. Like being there for their triumphs, as well as their defeats. Like mending skinned knees and wouded egos. Trepidation at sharing them with the rest of the world. Realizing that they do not belong only to you, but are going to make an impact on others as well.

Am I really ready to give it all up? For this to be the last time I have these experiences? I once was sure. I'm not anymore.

To make the decision, one has to consider the potential cost. I'm not speaking of dollars and cents. I'm speaking of the trials and tribulations of a pregnancy like this. When I became pregnant with Zachary, I had a glimmer of hope that this time would be different, that the old adage "every pregnancy is different" would ring true. It didn't. History does repeat itself. And while the details have changed, the situation has remained the same for me. Can I do it again?

They tell you that you will forget the pain you endure as soon as you hold your baby. I don't want to burst any bubbles for anyone, but I don't entirely agree with this. Because I remember. The pain took on a different shape and morphed into something much more tolerable when I first laid eyes on my newborn son, but it will never be forgotten. It will always be there, at the back of my memory, serving as a reminder of my love for someone I had yet to even meet. And instead of feeling resentment toward him as a result of the struggle, instead there is a deeper love. Because I endured pain and grief and heartache to bring him into the world, he is more precious to me than my own life.

So am I really finished being a Mommy after Zachary? I'm still not sure. I have to trust that time will tell. And I am not going through with the plan for any permanent prevention.