Farewell to My Baby Making Days

 

As we rode home from the hospital, there was such a feeling that came over me. One I couldn’t describe. Each bump in the road, the cool breeze from the AC, the gentle baby sounds, and the slurry of trees that passed by made me think of the end. I felt an emptiness, almost lonely. I reviewed the thoughts as they replayed in my mind. This would be the ‘last’ first ride. The ‘last’ first-time home. The ‘last’ first time meeting the family. The ‘last’ excitement of new motherhood. The last time to grow an infant inside this womb. The last time for nourishing and bonding as I cradle the baby to nurse. For the past 8 years, motherhood has been it. I’ve been pregnant, given birth, and in postpartum every other year within that time frame. Birthing babies became my life’s work. But now? Well, now it is the end. It is time to bid farewell to the backbreaking days of creating human life. Number four is our number. For me, that means no more of the excitement of taking that pregnancy test for the first time or the anxiousness that is waiting for that baby bump to finally arrive. There’s a push for a new era of my life to begin and so, here’s a love letter to the wondrous yet daunting days of baby-making.


For 40 weeks, I’ve grown you in my belly. In the beginning, the agony from most days seems to be unbearable. I toss and turn; I worry. I become anxious and my mind is filled with worst-case scenarios, and yet, I persevere. I move forward and I carry you through, waiting for the moment I see that sweet face and I realize THIS was worth it. The morning sickness turned all day nausea. The pain, sharp shooting pain, that travels from my belly through my back and along the arch in my legs. The constant panic of feeling the flow of mother nature at any moment. The anxiety of all of the weeks spent waiting to hear a heartbeat again or see that little body flourish in ultrasounds. The restless nights from frequent trips to the ladies’ room. 

And suddenly, I see you and you’re perfect. And with each subsequent visit, you just get bigger and better. At night, I see vivid dreams and moments of clarity when I envision my life with you in it. Then, there’s a joy that comes from knowing what is to come and bringing those plans to life. I accept it all―the change of character, raging appetite, and even lack thereof. The visions of sleepless nights and all of the fun we will have. The loss of my old life as the new me emerges. Mother! Yes, with the appearance of two lines, it came to be. When they put you in my arms it was oh so real to me. The growth of a fetus. The birth of a baby. The rearing of a child. And the guardian over adult life. Mom, a role I cannot take lightly because so many will never know, even when their desire is great. I am thankful for the four lives bestowed upon me. I am blessed to be able to birth them, but now, it is the end. My final hoorah and the last of my baby-making days. Farewell to them.

Though we can never be certain what our future holds, this I feel most truly. I don’t see any more trimesters only years. I only see years of joy. Years that pass a mile a minute so I’m going to soak up all I can with the ones I have here now. It is an unspeakable joy to enjoy the fruits of my labor. To press forward with a focus on enjoying the family life we created and moving forward in a new direction of my own. A warm welcome to a version of me that was once lost, but is found or rather born again. It is time to cleave to the intense desire to be more. Do more. See more. 2 boys, 2 girls. That’s what this body of mine was able to create. That’s what we did. That’s what I did.