After having Emalyn, I had joked with my mom that in an ideal world, where I stuck to my desire to bear three of my own children, I'd have them at age 30, 32, and 34, so they wouldn't be too far apart and so I could avoid having a geriatric pregnancy and therefore avoid the higher risk of having complications. The funny thing is that with this second pregnancy, I didn't think I'd manage the deadline.
See, before trying to have Emalyn, Peter and I had agreed that we wanted to be in a good place both financially and intimately (you can read more about the latter in my blog post entitled the s word). As a result, getting pregnant with Emalyn meant even more than it would have otherwise, because it meant we had both figured out our finances and gotten to a good place in terms of our intimacy (which, at times, seemed impossible).
This time around, I wanted to make sure I was in a good place mentally before trying for a second. I had been caught off guard by how severe my postpartum depression was after having Emalyn (it could have been worse, to be sure, but to me, it was worse than I could have anticipated), so I started seeing a therapist four months later. In hindsight, I should've looked for a therapist much sooner. Regardless, being able to talk to J openly and honestly was a game-changer. She not only helped me work through the trying times of being a new mom, but she also helped me work through some personal stuff that I hadn't realized was hindering me as well. If I had been able to work with her indefinitely, I might have actually been ready to try for a second sooner. However, when Peter got a new job in the spring of 2022, our insurance changed, and my sessions with her were no longer covered.
I went roughly five months without therapy, and I'm not going to lie, those were a very difficult five months. Peter and I hit a bit of a rut in our marriage, and I felt the depression creeping in again. I'm not trying to suggest that therapy is a fix-all solution to mental health issues, but it made an incredible difference to me. It kept me accountable to making positive changes in my life, and, as a result, it kept me grounded as well. I told Peter that it was really important to me to have a therapist lined up before trying for a second so that I would have someone to walk with me through my pregnancy and also to be there as soon as I transitioned to postpartum.
I had been devastated when I lost J. I was genuinely concerned that I wouldn't find someone I clicked with as well as I had clicked with her. I did two sessions with another therapist last summer, but I knew right after the second session that she wasn't the right fit. That's when I found C. C is a therapist who specializes in mindfulness, and as someone who easily gets caught up in and swept away by her emotions, I thought this could be a helpful exercise to try. I was right. Mindfulness (coupled with prayer, of course) has helped me grow SO MUCH as a person, as a wife, and as a mom, and it has helped me take my feelings and thoughts captive so that I don't immediately act on them.
So after getting into a good rhythm with C and mentally preparing myself as best as I could to transition from being a mom of one to a mom of two (with the wonderful help of mom friends who were already living it!), in the spring, I told Peter I was finally ready to try. And just like with Emalyn, after using an app once to time our attempts with my ovulation, I got pregnant! We were both stunned. We had been prepared to wait a while since for many couples, it takes a much longer time to conceive the second than it does the first, which is why I had assumed I wouldn't be having a baby at 32. Because of this, I don't take the ease of my getting pregnant for granted in the slightest.
Just like last time, I tried not to allow myself to get too excited too quickly, knowing there was a chance that the pregnancy would end in a miscarriage. This time around, I actually prayed about both outcomes - I prayed that if the baby was meant to live, that he/she would simply be healthy coming out of the first trimester, and I prayed that if the baby wasn't meant to live, that God would comfort us through the period of mourning we were bound to experience. It was a really hard prayer to pray, but I felt an overwhelming sense of peace afterwards, knowing that I would be okay no matter what happened and reminding myself that if I did have a miscarriage, it wouldn't be because of anything I did or didn't do.
During my first OBGYN visit at the end of April, both Peter and Emalyn came with me. We got to see the baby via my first ultrasound, and that was super exciting to share with both of them, especially Emalyn. That was also the first time I heard the doctor say the words "cautiously optimistic." The baby was tracking smaller than he (we eventually found out we're having a boy, so I'll just use "he" lol) should have been, based on my last period, so there were some concerns about what that might mean. For two weeks, I prayed that same prayer, trying really hard not to worry. This time, I added that if the baby would lead a really difficult life if he lived, I prayed that God would relieve him of his future suffering and take him. Again, a really hard prayer to pray, but again, I felt at ease about it. When Peter and I went to my follow-up appointment two weeks later, the doctor assured us that the baby was on the right track, based on how much he should have developed during those past two weeks, so they just needed to alter my due date to reflect that. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. He was okay. : )
We decided to tell our parents the following weekend, when I hit 9 weeks - I couldn't wait until the end of the first trimester to tell them this time around, and it was probably a good thing too, because I was actually starting to show just a tiny bit. At 11 weeks, a friend actually asked if I was pregnant. I realized then that I was probably not going to be able to wait much longer to tell everyone who regularly sees us in person, so we told the rest of our family, and then the secret got out from there! A lot of my friends who have at least two kids had said they started showing early the second time around, so apparently this is completely normal. I just hadn't anticipated HOW early I'd be showing!
When we found out we were having a boy, Peter and I were both really excited. I had kind of wanted to give Emalyn a little sister, mostly because we had had another girl's name picked out for a while, but I was actually more excited about giving her a brother. Most of my mom friends have boys, and she has a lot of friends who are boys at daycare, so I think the transition will go really well for her. She's so good with babies too, always wanting to give them a gentle pat on the back and take care of them if they're crying by giving them their pacifier or rocking their seats. She pats my belly and says goodnight to the baby every night, and lately she's taken to hugging my belly and sometimes even kissing it. I melt every time. It's also incredibly reassuring to be surrounded by boy moms since I know absolutely nothing about raising a boy lol.
The only real challenge that came with the discovery of the gender was coming up with a good name for him. We had a lot of criteria the name had to meet, which made the decision that much harder. There were certain names that were off limits because of unpleasant experiences with guys in the past (for both Peter and myself). We also needed a name that was unique so that Emalyn's name wouldn't outshine his. We wanted a name that was clearly a boy's name too. For a while, it felt like every name I came up with was shot down by Peter and vice versa. And the boy names we had picked out in the past were quickly rejected. We FINALLY settled on a name when I was 18 weeks along (which was only two weeks ago lol). Peter had felt good about it a little before that, but I needed time to sit on it and eventually decided it was right. We didn't make it up the way we had made up Emalyn, but it's definitely unique. You'll have to wait until he's born to hear it. ; )
Overall, this pregnancy has been going smoothly (though the summer heat makes it uncomfortable at times). I definitely wasn't nearly as nauseous as I had been with Emalyn. I've mostly just been tired. I feel bad about this sometimes because Emalyn is so full of energy now, and I can't keep up with her a lot of the time. I'm doing the best I can, though, and she never complains. I've also been experiencing something called piriformis syndrome, where I feel a sharp pain in one of my butt cheeks that travels down the back of my thigh. The first time it happened, I couldn't walk without being in pain. It lasted maybe an hour and a half, and it was excruciating. Thankfully, I was scheduled to talk to my best friend S that evening, and she was able to identify it and suggested I stretch. So I did, and that, coupled with some pain medication, seemed to do the trick. I started going to the chiropractor again more regularly too (I took a break during the spring simply because I wasn't suffering from back pain), and that helped as well. Now when I experience it every now and then, it doesn't last more than 5-10 minutes.
I can't help but smile every time I feel him kick because I just have so much gratitude for this life I'm carrying inside of me. It's crazy to think I'm already halfway there! Berntsen Bear, know that you are loved and that I can't wait to meet you. ❤
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