My best friend had a baby yesterday. A beautiful boy, 8lbs 2oz, 21inches, cheeks that beg to be kissed. This is her fourth child. She has 2 other boys & 1 girl. Back in 2002/2003 we were both pregnant with our daughters. We ended up delivering 36 hours apart. It was great to have someone to share my pregnancy with. It was my first but her third and she really kept me grounded, ya’ know, not freaking out over every little thing. Our girls now call each other “best friends”.
In January, my friend (let’s call her S) calls me and says, “Holy Crap, I’m pregnant.”
I reply, “Holy Crap, me too!”
After a little period calculation, we came to the conclusion that our due dates were once again two days apart! Pretty damn freaky, huh?
The Big Guy and I had decided we were not going to have any more kids. We had the two girls, his daughter from his first marriage and our daughter together. Our house is pretty small and adding another person would make it very cramped. Big Guy was turning 49 and might want to actually retire some day instead of working the rest of his damn life. I have had two miscarriages in the last two years and they really threw me.
So anyway, we had come to the conclusion that we were not going to have any more kids. Birth control should be used. Notice should. Big Guy is afraid of getting a vasectomy and I was trying to convince him that was easier than me getting my tubes tied. No luck. One night the Trojan Man did not join in our lovin’, hence the “Holy Crap”.
After peeing on three different kinds of sticks (I had to be sure, really sure), I proceeded to have a total meltdown. I wasn’t happy. Then S called with the news that she too was knocked up. After talking to her for like three hours, I was actually getting into it. S reminded me that Big Guy always wanted a boy and we had a 50/50 shot at that. She reminded me that when I was growing up me, my parents, sister and four brothers lived in a three bedroom house and what was wrong with the kids sharing a room? S reminded me that my husband is a work-a-holic and would probably never retire anyway. This is why she is one of my best friends.
A couple of weeks went by and we were getting really psyched for this baby. We told only my parents, my sister and my husband’s sister. We weren’t keeping it a secret, it’s just that my brother & his wife were expecting their first and we didn’t want to take away from them. I signed up for those pregnancy calendar e-mails, coupons and all that other good stuff.
I miscarried at twelve weeks two days.
I was passed the twelve week mark, what the hell?!
I thought God was punishing me for saying I didn’t want the baby.
I thought I killed my child with my thoughts.
S listened to me and listened to me and told me in no uncertain terms that I did not kill my baby. I started to believe her. To be honest, there is still a part of me that thinks God punished me for not wanting the baby at first. I try not to listen to that voice.
Fast forward to July. Another friend (D) and I have a shower for S. I was okay through the planning and the party, then I went home and cried.
I get e-mails from pregnancy calenders “You are in your thirtieth week!”
My brother & his wife have their baby in May. A beautiful girl with a full head of black hair!
My friend S has her boy yesterday. She scheduled her c-section so she would be home from the hospital before her older kids went back to school.
My due date would have been September 7, this Thursday. I am not looking forward to that day.
As I said a couple of days ago, it seems Big Guy wants another. I haven’t been able to bring myself to talk about it yet. Maybe in a few weeks. I just don’t know what I want.