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I don’t think my family is complete

J and I have had many discussions recently about our family. I want another baby. He’s on the fence about it. That decision was almost made for us recently, as I’m pretty sure I was briefly pregnant. Just long enough to start feeling it, knowing something’s different. Just enough to adjust mentally to the possibility, and start getting used to it. Just long enough to start thinking about how our lives could change, and what we’d need to do.

And then? Nothing. A very late, odd period. Not the usual (I will spare you the details of how it wasn’t the same). So while it’s not 100% certain, and there’s no way now to really confirm it, my body was telling me something.

And I believed it. And I wanted it so badly. I did. Still do. I was left with the feeling that our family is not yet complete. We still have someone else to meet.

But nothing’s ever simple. I had a lot of problems last time. It was not easy. Not for me, and not for J. He had to worry about losing me. I don’t really think that was an issue, but that does not mean that fear was not real. And if I get pregnant again, that fear comes back.

I had excellent care. My doctors were fabulous, keeping good tabs on both me and the baby. When my blood pressure went up just a little bit, they made me go in for monitoring. When the baby was stuck in the birth canal and not making any progress, they went in to get him before he or I went into distress. The surgery was a little rough, but I was fine. Tired, but fine.

Every pregnancy is different. There are no guarantees. The next one could be easier. Textbook, even. My chances of diabetes again, though, are pretty good. So we don’t know. No one ever does, do they?

The question is – are we willing to take that risk?

Oops… now where was I?

I had some ideas for writing. Some cute or funny things about the kid. Or maybe me. Something. I think.

But mommy brain has struck again and I can’t remember what it was I wanted to tell you. Or write for posterity. Or just vent. I think it was one of those. Not sure which. Maybe all?

Unless I write things down I can’t remember a darn thing right now. It’s so freakin’ irritating. I swear I’d forget the kid if… no, that’s a lie. He’s about the only thing I won’t forget.

I won’t forget him because I’ve read and written about too many kids being left in the car and it terrifies me. So I’m constantly checking him, making sure he’s where he should be.

Maybe that’s the problem. I’m so busy remembering where the kid is, what he needs, what’s next for him that I forget me. I forget what I was supposed to do. Or say. Or write.

I thought it would get better after a year. The memory. The forgetting things. I was so, so wrong. *sigh*

When words fail

I have so much going on in my head right now. It’s hard to make sense of it all myself, much less put it in order for anyone else.

I’m fine, hubby’s fine, baby’s fine. Just busy, and trying to find my way through all of the crap in my head.

We’re waiting to see how much my insurance will be on COBRA. Should find out sometime soon. I am dreading that letter, as I expect it to take everything I’m making right now – and possibly more.

Still trying to find a way to get it all done. It never gets done, but I’d like to get a better handle on things. more…

still struggling

I told my group at work that I was leaving. We’ve had the same core of people for quite a while now, and they’re like a bit of family to me. We’ve shared so many things. They’ve been with me when I got married, graduated college, and had a baby. We’ve had parties, eaten a lot of food, and laughed together. They are a large part of why I enjoyed my job so much. And I feel like I’m breaking up with them.

I guess I am.

That saddens me. I couldn’t keep from tearing up as they came by and said they’ll miss me. Even though we all know it’ll be a little while until they find someone. It still hurts. I still feel forced to make a decision I didn’t want to make. I didn’t want to leave.