So naturally, people are shocked when they learn that we are doing everything in our power to prevent another pregnancy. I mean, what are the odds? Well, even with IVF, it was only 50/50 -- which works out about right, since we got pregnant on our second IVF attempt.
People ask me all the time if finding out I was pregnant was one of the happiest days of my life, wouldn't I love to be pregnant again? The answer to that is yes, I would love to be pregnant again - with someone else's child. I would be a gestational surrogate in a heartbeat, even for a stranger. But I don't want to be anyone else's mother. Dane is enough. He's been enough since the moment we found out we were pregnant. You see, Jonathan and I had always dreamed that if we ever did get lucky enough to get pregnant, wouldn't it be amazing if we had twins? However, the very day we learned we were pregnant, and remembered those two embryos that had been transferred just 9 days earlier, the reality of all of that hit us. I am positive that if we had twins, we would have been overjoyed and as absolutely in love with our life as we are now. But I would be lying if I said we didn't breathe a small sigh of relief when we saw one precious heartbeat. I have plenty of friends who have twins from fertility treatments and I can honestly say that they handle everything so very well. I think it was certainly meant to be that those couples had twins and we got one perfect Dane.
There's also the absolute raging postpartum depression I experienced. I kept thinking that I wasn't supposed to be feeling this way. I had literally begged God for this child and poured every part of my self into him. What I didn't realize then is that women who undergo fertility treatments are actually more likely to develop PPD than other mothers. We have years to fantasize about motherhood and babies and pregnancy and how perfect it will all be. This doesn't mean we're stupid or irrational about parenthood. I fully expected to be up all night, peed on, pooped on, all of the stuff that comes with newborns. What I did not expect was an infant that could not be soothed. By anyone. He was like the perfect storm of babies. He liked being swaddled, but hated being hot. He was born in July, so this was not easy. One time, I put him swaddled, in a swing, on top of an ice pack. He also liked to breastfeed and was a great latcher, but I had nada to give him. I would rock and sing to him for hours. He was miserable. So I made myself miserable. I felt like I needed punishment for not being able to be a good enough mother to make him feel better. After 6 weeks at home with him on maternity leave, I couldn't wait to go back to work. I was terrified of him and how inadequate I felt. Once I did go back to work, he got kicked out of home daycare after a week because he cried too much. We had to find a new daycare in just a few days. Months later, after I got better and forgave myself, a daycare worker from the room he was in from 7 weeks old - 11 months old told me, "you know, I've worked here for several years and taken care of hundreds of babies. Your's is the first I have ever seen that truly has colic. I had no idea how to deal with him. I just thought other babies were difficult." This sounds awful, but I felt validated. All those months of feeling clueless, and a woman who takes care of babies for a living couldn't calm my child. On a side note, I highly recommend the book The Ghost in the House by Tracy Thompson. I cannot begin to tell you how much it impacted my recovery. It was like looking in a mirror. (Note to readers: I have debated "publicly" sharing the fact that I had PPD for many months. I finally decided to for the same reason I decided to share our infertility struggles: so that someone else would know they are not alone. Please respect this.)
The final reason we're 99.99% sure we're done with one? Pretty simple, really. We like our family dynamic. Mom and Dad will be there for each and every performance, graduation, and baseball game - no splitting up and "you take Jill to soccer practice and I'll take Jim to the band concert." We like the "tag team" style of parenting. It works for us.
I jokingly told two of my sweetest friends a couple weekends ago that "if I could birth a 15-month old, I'd consider having another child." But since I don't see medical advancements catching up to that point before I'm well past my child-bearing years, I think we'll just stick with Dane.
To all you non-believers who tell me "you'll change your mind" - well maybe. But I'm pretty confident that when you and I run into one another at Target in ten years and you ask me how many kids I have, the answer will still be "one!"
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