When my husband and I made the decision to try to get pregnant again, there was a lot that went into it. We talked about genetics, and the possibility of once again passing down my genetic disorder (at the time, we didn’t know it was a 50/50 chance), we talked about age gaps, about money, we talked about all of it.
We both knew in our hearts that we weren’t done. I wasn’t done. My family didn’t feel complete. To be honest, I don’t think my family will ever feel complete. I am missing a huge part of my heart, and I’ll always feel incomplete because of that. I’m missing a child, my first son, and I’ll never truly be whole again.
But despite that, despite all of the pain and the risks and the hurt…we both knew that this was what we wanted, and now was the time.
But, it goes deeper for that for me.
Yes, all of those reasons are true. I didn’t feel done. I wanted another baby. We felt ready and had talked about it for a long time. But even with all of those very true and real reasons…it wasn’t just that.
I wanted to feel safe again. I wanted to be pregnant. Because a pregnant me is a version of me that I needed to find again.
I wanted to be sober. I knew that I needed to be sober, and I knew that I just couldn’t do it any other way than unless I was forced into it. It was something that I knew I could and would do, given the chance.
Simply put, I knew there was no fucking way I was going to dig myself out of the hole I was in unless I was pregnant.
So, sobriety was one reason.
Another reason was safety. I knew that, well, this one was more of a hope really…I hoped that by being pregnant, I would be safer.
I hoped that certain people in my life, people that have sexually assaulted me repeatedly over the past few years, would leave me alone.
And that has proved true. This person has more or less left me alone for the entirety of my pregnancy. It’s been a noticeable improvement, and it’s something that I desperately needed to happen.
For everything that pregnancy is and that it isn’t…it’s something that protects me. And honestly, coming to the end of it now with just a few weeks (if that) left to go…I’m kind of scared.
I’m scared to go back. I’m always the best version of myself when I’m pregnant…because I have to be. I take care of myself because I have to. And I’m really scared for the next chapter of my life where I’m left on my own, where the demons that I’m running from will catch me again.
I don’t want to be a victim, I don’t want to fall apart, I don’t want to find myself in the same disasters I’ve found myself in so many times.
I don’t know what the future hold. Everything is unknown, and I have no idea what comes next.
Having a baby is scary in it of itself.
But the aspect of not being pregnant anymore…that’s something else entirely. And I’m not sure I’m prepared for that reality quite yet.