Hi. My name is Cheryl. I used to be a really faithful blogger. Then I sort of lost focus and pretty much fell off the wagon.
And I'm not here to make any promises of future consistency.
So, if you're still a reader, thanks. If not, I really don't blame you.
This post is definitely more for me than anything else.
Long before Darling A was conceived, we knew she would be our last. Being pregnant just involves too high of a risk for my mental state. And the rest of the family suffers as a result, as well. Initially, I found great peace and comfort in this knowledge. Getting pregnant every 2-3 years has definitely made it challenging for me to find any sort of stability because the hormones have such an intense detrimental effect. And hormones during breast feeding are only minimally better.
So, the prospect of being able to just kind of normalize all of that was a happy one. HH and I both knew it was the right decision and had a lot of peace.
Not to mention optimism. I can tell that I do better as a mom of older children than small. Not being constantly sleep-deprived and worn out will remove one of my main triggers for depression. I can really getting into my training and participate in more races, which is something I find a lot of joy in. There are a lot of freedoms lost during pregnancy and then with a small infant that I can regain.
And so, we took steps to make sure that we don't have to worry about me getting pregnant ever again. Birth control messes with my hormones and emotional state as well, so that was not an option.
And then one morning when Darling A was maybe two months old I woke up and thought about how amazing it is to create a life and then to watch that life grow and develop and my heart hurt so bad at the realization that I will not ever have that.
I poured my heart out in prayer and was immediately reminded of the peace I had felt when we made our decision and why it was really a good thing and that I had initially been relieved and even a little bit excited to be ending this chapter of my life. And then I was assured that all things will be made right. And that any loss I perceive in this life will be made whole in the life to come. And I knew in that moment, and I still do, that we had done the right thing. That this really is what is best. And that I will be happier as a result. Along with the rest of my family.
I still felt some loss and sadness, but I felt that that was normal and I was okay with it. It mostly stayed in the background and I was certain it would fade.
But, it didn't. About three months before Darling A's first birthday, it began growing and growing. Until it turned into a dark cloud constantly hanging over me. When anyone mentioned how big she was getting or her approaching birthday, I got a little snappy and had to really check myself. No one meant any offense by this. Even though it is so sweet and special and fun to watch her grow, I have been sad with every milestone achieved. And I truly feel that my heart is broken.
I love being a mom. I love being pregnant (besides that it really brings out my crazy and makes me and everyone else miserable--a strange but true paradox). And I love love love my babies. I question whether or not I could handle any more children. But, I do know that I would love them.
This was the topic at today's therapy session. I just kept telling him how sad I am about it all. And I cried. For the first time. We have discussed some truly horrible things in there, but this is what finally broke me. I am so sad about it all.
But at the same time, I just want to be rid of the grief. I know we made the right decision. I know I will be a better and happier person for it. I know it will benefit my family. I know that so much good will come from it. And I'm a little annoyed with myself for hanging on.
But, I'm just having a really hard time letting go. My therapist suggested that maybe a part of me is afraid of letting go of the sadness. I think maybe he is right. But, I know I need to because it is dragging me down. Away from what is otherwise a pretty incredible life.
I just wish I could snap my fingers and make it disappear.