Life is good. Life is great. Would life be so much different with another baby?

They say the waiting is the hardest no matter what the subject. Waiting to see if meds have worked gives you a small sense of relief when you finally get blood test results, if they haven’t you wait to see what happens with your body and if you need another form of treatment, if they have, well, you wait some more.

I find this gives me great internal stress that I am not immediately aware of. I notice that I eat a lot of chocolate, have tummy upsets (perhaps not completely unrelated) and obsessively track my temperature.

I know this will not be for long since we have a deadline for when we are going to stop trying. In some ways I’m excited about that, pregnancy or no pregnancy, that an end is near and I get my body back. But I wonder, if this is the case, what will my identity be. For so long my main focus has been having a child that I kind of lost sight of other things. What do I want to do with myself? My body will also be completely mine and that also feels strange. It feels like it has been on loan for so long I haven’t considered it mine for a while.

If I am fortunate enough to get pregnant before the deadline I am absolutely petrified that we might not make it out of the first trimester. If we do then I have another six months of anxiety ahead of me as I wait for confirmation my baby is alive and well and in my arms forever protected.

As I finish writing this, I think of Little Man and know I am extremely lucky because I have friends who would make the most amazing parents and their dream has yet to realise. I acknowledge that the trying feels slightly better the second time around, less all-consuming, simply because I have him at my side.

Until next time,


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