And the thing about babies...

Babies smell so sweet and their warm, pliable bodies fit so snugly against our own.  My son's slobbery kisses and gummy smiles kept me going through tough times at work and at home.  I loved for the rare occasion when he would fall asleep in my arms.  Along with those fluffy pink clouds at sunrise came the suffocating grey fog brought on by lack of sleep, the transformation, body and mind, into a baby feeding/nurturing/cleaning machine, and the soul crushing guilt of not enjoying every second of this precious life. 

So, do I want to go through that again?  Do I want to experience the other worldliness of bringing home a tiny creature, completely dependant on me?  The panic moments after a soothing bed time bath (did I get his belly button too wet? Are his lips a little blue, was the water too cold?  Is the rash because I didn't buy the expensive organic baby wash?), the unexpected moment that feels like forever as I catch his fathomless hazy gaze (am I seeing my own eyes or his father's?).  Do I really want to experience that utter joy and complete terror a second time?

Well, my actions for the last three years would say I do want to do it again (better this time, of course). 

As you may know, but probably don't, my husband and I have been trying to have a second child.  We've been trying (on and off and on again) for the last three years. 

As I write this, it's the day after Valentine's Day 2013.  This time last year we were celebrating the beginning of a new family member.  We were finally at the end of the road.  Our family was complete.  She was the twinkle in her baba's eye, the rose in her brothers cheeks, and the extra inch in my waistband.  This time last year, after I read my son his bedtime ritual books, we would peer through the inky black, our hair entangled, at glowing images of what a developing human looks like when just the size of a grain of rice. We would whisper about our dreams of a little sister who swam in the ocean with the mermaid princes and princesses. 

This time this year, the mermaid princess has been tossed aside for superheroes dressed all in black.  This time this year, we don't have a new family member, but a hole in each of our hearts.  This time this year, the doctors say the next turn in the road is ivf.  This time this year, we are making some big decisions and sorting out a lot of deeply held beliefs about ourselves and our assumptions about what would, should, could happen.

Yes, we want a baby and we've already paid a steep price to achieve our desire.  Now we are deciding if we are willing or able to pay more.

So, I restart this blog to chronicle our process, both as a tool to sort through our journey in progress and a place to share with other struggling families our heart and our story.

The next post will be about how we got to teeter at this precipice.