I’ve had a Rolling Stones song stuck in my head for the past
few weeks. Now obviously that is an awesome state of affairs. But the reason
it’s in my head is perhaps not so awesome.
This could be the last
time
This could be the last
time
Maybe the last time, I
don’t know.
I’ve always been drawn to big families. I’m the youngest of
three, my Mum is the youngest of five, and I have an impressive array of
cousins and second cousins. I love it. I love it to the point where, when I was
dating my now-husband, I told him I wanted five kids.
Ever the pragmatist, he managed to talk me down to four.
Then to three.
And I was still quite keen on the idea of three until I got
pregnant with number two. But this pregnancy has made me realise I can’t do it
again.
I know that many women would be aghast at me for saying this
but my body is not really made for pregnancy. I have low blood pressure,
meaning a first trimester plagued by dizzy spells and fainting. I have always
been easily fatigued, meaning I currently struggle to get through a day without
a nap. And, probably most importantly, I have a pelvis that just doesn’t behave
itself.
In my first pregnancy, I developed Pelvic Girdle Pain (also
known as SPD) at around 30 weeks. That was bad enough as by the end I was
pretty much housebound. This time I started getting symptoms at 6 weeks. That
means I’ve now been in near-constant pain for 6 months. And I’ve around 2
months to go.
Not only is this pretty miserable for me, I feel awful about
the effect it’s having on Eleanor. My energetic girl who loves to run, climb
and roughhouse is being seriously limited by the fact that Mummy can’t run or
even walk fast, can’t bend down, can’t sit on the floor, can’t even have her
sitting on her knee some days. Mummy’s too tired in the afternoon to go for a
walk or do crafts. Mummy’s grumpy because of the pain and sleep deprivation, so
gets irritated by repeated requests to play babies, or school, or Christmas. I
feel like I’m letting her down. And I know that I’m doing this to give her the
sibling she’s longed for, but I can’t help feeling like it’s not fair on her
that she should be so limited because of my rubbish body. If I’m struggling to
look after one child whilst pregnant, how much harder would it be with two?
There’s also the fact that I’ve now been a stay-at-home mum
for four years. Yes, I work from home, but I don’t feel I can really take off
with that until I’m done spending most of my waking hours looking after my
children. I want to be able to stay at home with the next child as I have with
Eleanor, but I’m not sure I can manage more than five years of trying to fit
the other bits of me around that. I feel like my professional life is on hold.
So it looks like we’re sticking at two. This could be the
last time I’m pregnant. Part of me feels relieved at that – no more pregnancy
sickness, horrendous dizziness, mobility problems etc – but mostly I feel angry
at my body for letting me down. And scared that I will forever feel like our
family is not quite complete. Of course I love my two children, and I know they
will always fill my heart, but I never thought I’d end up with a small family.
I feel unbelievably blessed with the family I have, but I’m worried that I’ll
always miss the child I didn’t have.
