When you know, you know.
I’ve always wanted children. My pre-kid brain in my teenage years and forever 20s era envisioned three kids. I often think back on those times and am so very grateful. I was not only able to have children but was also able to have what I actually wanted: two, TWO, children! Oh, to be young and naive. Oh, to be older and much wiser to know when it is the last call.
Mentally, physically, and emotionally, I know I could never again handle another pregnancy or the foggy newborn days or all the things of the early years. Thinking back to how postpartum depression nearly swallowed me whole both times, I quiver at the thought of a reality where postpartum depression would come knocking for round three—it wouldn’t be pretty, and I am confident I don’t want to live that reality ever again.
Sometimes, I allow myself to mourn the fact that I will actually never be pregnant or have a newborn again. Those were the best of times, and they were also the worst of times. I loved being pregnant, and the newborn smells—oh, those newborn smells. Babies make me weak in the knees, and I usually forget where I am whenever I am around them because how could I not?! They’re perfect. But when they’re your babies, there are late nights, early mornings, long days, sleep deprivation, uncovered memories, and so many more uncomfortable realities. But they’re also perfect and pure joy and love . . . unconditional love.
What I’ll miss the most are the pregnancy tests (positive and negative results), the anticipation, the excitement, the fear, the frustration of another period month after month, the growing belly, the baby kicks, the ultrasounds, the maternity clothes, the swollen feet, the constant full bladder, the heartburn, and everything else that comes as a woman embarks on her journey to motherhood. These are the moments when I felt like I became a mother, well before delivery day, and in those moments, a mother knows. A mother knows when it’s the last call.
Today and always, I am just the mama my two boys need. Most days, I don’t know what I’m doing, making things up along the way, and showing up in all forms. Fumbling on my feet since day one, and my love for them keeps me upright.
My body, mind, and heart are finally in unison . . . I am done having babies. When you know, you know.