*gulp* eeek!
Yep, that's my reaction too, which is worrying. And no, before anyone asks, I'm not up the duff!
Two things have got me thinking the first was these tweets between Ed Byrne and Lauren Lavern:
"@MrEdByrne: @laverneshow 8 days since our bundle of joy arrived. The #guantanamobaby term you coined is incredibly apt."
"@laverneshow: @MrEdByrne OMG! Ed. You are in THE CAVE. The important thing is to keep breathing, stay alive and at some point you will get out. Congrats!X"
It really sums up how the first few months felt to me. Wonderful but with an overwhelming feeling of being held in a slow pattern of mild torture. Isolation. Sleep deprivation. Depression. I remember them so well. So well that I am terrified at the prospect of doing it again. Yes, I know we came out the otherwise but, like the dread of another impending surgery, the outcome doesn't negate the crap you go through to get there.
The thought of the tears and the misery side of 'Guantanamobaby' again really frightens me. I know it might not be like that again. I had a rough time of it, dealing with a delayed emotional reaction to the accident and what I felt at the time was a traumatic birth. Next time it might be easier. I'll be better equipped for breast-feeding (which was a major source of stress) and we'll be so much more experienced at caring for a newborn. But my glass-half-empty side screams: "it'll be the same torture but with a toddler to cope with!"
Suddenly number two seems a baaaaad idea! But then last night there was an article in our local paper about the Alex (the hospital where we had Dylan) doing tours of delivery suite. Next to the article was a picture of a nursery nurse weighing a baby. It was our hero, who from drug-addled memory, was called Sue. This was the lady who despite being told not to, helped me carry a five day old Dylan out into the snow to our car, where Alex had already being queuing to leave for an hour. I wasn't allowed to carry him after my caesarian and Alex was holding our place in a two hour plus queue to leave the snow-bound car park.
Sue was ace and my redeeming memory of being stuck in the hospital for five days. She was no nonsense and took no crap from me. She was the one person with consistently good advice. She even gave Dylan his first bath!
Seeing her picture reminded me of a lot of the good of Dylan as a newborn. Plus apparently the Alex have recently opened a new part of their delivery suite with posh new equipment. I won't bore you with the details, but it sounds awesome. The article is here: http://www.redditchstandard.co.uk/story-Tours-offer-mums-to-be-a-chance-to-get-to-know--32231.html and in the picture, Sue is the blonde lady!
It's hard. I'm so broody these days and I really want a sibling that's close in age to Dylan so that they can play together. Plus I want to get being pregnant out the way whilst I'm under 35. And yes, that gives me four years but what if number two is hard to conceive? It happens! Plus there is a large part of me that thinks if I've got to do 'Guantanamobaby' again, let's get it out the way.
So what am I going to do? Ignore the issue, put up with being broody, try and ignore the fear and think about it again in the spring... or summer... or maybe autumn? It's a case of not now but soon I think.
*gulp*
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