Reading Chopper’s birth story really stirred so many memories for me of our own magical experience. I often think back on the day that Ava was born, it was magical and so completley surreal. I relive it over and over and over again and I’m still moved by the magic and emotion of that day.
Of course, a lot of the really horrible things are also still fresh in my memory, the sheer exhaustion, the feeling of being completley out of my league, of not being able to cope and not knowing what I’m doing. The days when she wouldn’t sleep at all and the nights that followed, battling over stimulation and all the mistakes one makes with a new born. I don’t live with the fantasy of what having a new born must be like, I know how tough it is. I remember the days when I swore that if I survived I would never ever do it again!
But then something happens, so many people told me about it, but when I was in the thick haze of the early weeks, I didn’t think I’d make it to that magical place. Everyone told me that it would get better, some people said at 6 weeks, some said at 12 weeks it would get better and it would get easier. At that point, I’d done 14 days straight of no sleep and frankly when someone told me if I could make it to 6 weeks and things would get better, I wanted to head butt them till their nose bled. But then it happened…. One day, shortly after Ava turned 8 weeks old, the madness just stopped. As abruptly as it started, it just stopped. One day. Just like that. Out of the blue. She drank her bottle, the required amount at a reasonable pace, when I put her down to sleep during the day she would sleep and for a few hours at a time. She stopped being constipated and she stopped having stomach cramps and after a bath and a bottie at night she’d go straight to sleep, no more hours spent pacing & rocking an overstimulated baby that would wriggle and jerk. She’d simply go to sleep. And shortly after that she started sleeping consistently through the night, from 7pm till 7am.
And as suddenly as it all changed, it also dawned on me, I’d survived. We’d made it. We’d made through the hardest weeks of our life and we were still alive and still standing. I also realized we were lucky. I know plenty of mom’s out there who 9,10 months, or even years later were still not getting full nights sleep, who were still battling things like reflux, colic, hungry babies that just couldn’t or wouldn’t sleep through.
And that’s where the stirring inside me began. Brave from the knowledge that I’d survived, I started thinking about a second one.
You know I’ve blogged about a singleton versus two children on numerous occasions because its a decision Walter and I just don’t seem to be able to get to. We just can’t seem to decide what would be best but we have made a decision on how to proceed………
We’re leaving it in God’s hands, it its part of His plan then it will be. I cannot and will not ever open myself up to the madness that is TTC and fertility treatment ever ever ever ever ever again! NEVER EVER! I’m finally, after years of anguish, free of that and I’m not going back.
So our plan is, God willing, and of course, this could all change as well, but the plan is to revisit our Social Worker in 2011, get ourselves back onto their list and see what happens. If its part of God’s plan for there to be a No. 2 for us, it will be, if not, then it won’t be but we won’t limit the miracle and we are open to what He decides for us.