Back in May of this year, I started writing a post that I never finished or published;
As we lay side by side, Dad 101 asked what I was thinking. I responded, “Remember the days when sex was just about having fun.” Enjoying each other. That intimacy between two people that encompasses body, mind and heart.
It’s not like that now. Following the loss of our second baby, a short eight months ago, sex is now fraught with uncertainty, the shadow of mutual sadness and questions without answers. Wounds torn open in a grief stricken labour room are still raw. Too raw to make decisions about the future. Should we try again? Would we survive the stress and grief of another loss? Or the irrational guilt and self blame which tears at my soul? How would we endure the burden of uncertainty and fear on top of the likely extended morning sickness and excessive fatigue that plagues me each time?
Once upon a time, sex was about joy, connection, love, fun. Now it is punctuated with concern about dates and protection and the unspoken question – should we try again? Yes? No? If, when?
Just two month’s later I was more than a little surprised to find myself looking at two very clear lines on a stick. When I recently told a friend our news her response was, “Well, it really had to happen that way, or it never would have happened.” And I have a feeling she may be right.
As expected, it hasn’t been easy so far. Worry and uncertainty mixed with an unpleasant serve of all day morning sickness and that recent, nuisance bout of pneumonia, has seen me spend the first (almost) five months tired, emotional…excited but fearful. Wishing I could know for sure that everything will be okay this time.
Of course, no one can ever give you that certainty.
Little by little, I am learning to let go of the fear. Signs so far are that everything is progressing as it should and today I am hopeful, optimistic. I need to have faith that it will be okay this time. That in five months time we will meet this little person…