The confusion of trying (and possibly failing) again

It's a weird thing, trying for your second pregnancy and third child, after many, many years of infertility the first go-around.

It's an amazing thing, because I find myself in the position of already having two children. Not even one, but two. If it never works again, I still have two children. Yes, I'm sure I will mourn that loss - of a big family, of another pregnancy, of experiencing all the baby things again, of not realizing at the time that Luke was the last - but the two I have fill me up with more joy than I ever thought possible. It's just not the same type of problem anymore.

It's a confusing thing, because I still want a baby, badly, and yet I know that I already have so much. How can I ask for more while so many are still waiting for one?

I didn't realize just how much that troubled me until right before Advent started, when Ryan and I discussed praying for God to grow our family during our St. Andrew Christmas novena (I prayed the same novena, with the same intention, two years ago, just before finding out about Clara). That's when it occurred to me that I had not ever once prayed for a third child. We have been actively trying to conceive since May, yet I'd never asked God for it. And when we started the novena, and I did begin praying for it, it just felt weird. Soon I was saying that intention last, because it just seemed greedy.

I'm torn because I am scared it's never going to happen again, and yet I'm so busy right now being a mother to two that I'm not heartbroken every month. Clara and Luke both wake up from their naps so incredibly needy, both literally hanging off of me, crying, wanting to be the only one I hold, that sometimes I think, it's okay that it hasn't happened yet.

But I'm still scared it's never going to happen again.

I know how broken my body used to be and how there wasn't one obvious fix, but many. I can't imagine another surgery, now. I take comfort in my OB's observation during my section that everything looked great in there.

I had hoped pregnancy had healed my infertility even further, but now I'm wondering about that. Then I remind myself it's only been six cycles and I'm still breast feeding.

Nothing appears to be wrong from the little testing we've done. I have low progesterone, but I had that this time two years ago and ended up pregnant a few months later. I wasn't really on anything when I conceived before so there's no magical cocktail of meds to try again. Honestly, the only thing missing is complete and total happiness. Yes, I am full of joy right now, but I have my stresses, my irritability, my weaknesses. When I conceived before I was living in the clouds, in the first few months of becoming a mother. Maybe I need to recreate that. I need to pray for the strength to just be completely happy, like I was then. Let everything fall off of my back. I know it's possible. It's the way I should be living anyway.

People are always telling me to stop at two kids. Of course, these are people who don't know me (which makes it so much better.. haha), and sometimes I say something, but usually I just let it go. It's just something people say, when they hear you have a boy and a girl. And while if this is it, this is our family, part of me does take comfort in that - that we have two children, our kids have a sibling, we have a boy and a girl - I also dread that we'll always appear to the world that we did stop at two. We got our "perfect" little family and called it quits.

I know that's pride. We know we're not on birth control. We know we're open to God growing our family, and that's all that matters. And, might I add, what a wonderful problem to have.

Yes, I may be getting ahead of myself, but I just don't know. It took us almost six years before, who knows how long it will take this time, especially with me turning 35 on Monday.

I hope this doesn't come across as me complaining about how hard it is to be in my shoes, because it isn't. It's just an interesting place to be, wanting to grow your family, unsure if you'll be able to, haunted by your infertile past, busy with two little ones, and still shocked that you're a mother at all.

I offer up any difficulty or sadness I may experience this time around for those still waiting. I'm embarrassed I have any sadness in the first place. My childless-self wouldn't like that at all.