Wrapping Up Loose Ends – Day Six

gettingthingsdone500

Speaking of finishing things and wrapping up loose ends, I bought a nursing bra today, which might not seem like much of a loose end, except I’d put good odds that it’ll be the last nursing bra I ever buy.  After Isla was born, I stumbled onto a style I loved, and since then I’ve accumulated a grand total of 3 of them. They’re expensive, which makes buying a good stock of them gulp-worthy, so I started with one and rotated in others I liked less, and later I bought a second.  After Jude was born and when the first one had wire poking out the corner of one of the cups, I got a third, and I’ve been babying those 3 along ever since.  Two years later, and it’s time for a new one!

If you’ve followed our story for any length of time, you’ll know I’ve been very conflicted about how many babies I wanted to have.  I mean, I guess I’m not actually conflicted about how many I want.  I want four. Rather, I’m conflicted about how many pregnancies I’m willing to have.  My current count is 6, and I have 3 kids.  Those odds alone aren’t great, especially given the fact that I’m 37.  But then the last pregnancy was so difficult–exhausting in an other-worldly manner, then uncomfortable, and finally scary when it culminated in preeclampsia and a slightly premature birth occurring through emergency c-section since we had prolonged heart decelerations.

When I think about having another baby, I think first about Jude’s colic and how I’d rather live naked under a rock than endure that again.  But sometimes, especially when reading or watching others’ baby stories or when looking back at newborn pictures, I think “Screw it! I’ll take the colic risk if it lets me have another baby!”

And just about the time I’m ready to tell Tahd I want to go for it, I remember the blood pressure and the threat of seizures and the magnesium sulfate and the arguing and advocating with doctors and all the fear and crying.  I remember the two stories I’ve read online of mamas who seized or stroked around the time of their births and are no longer able to care for their babies.  And that? That is a risk I’m not sure I’ll ever feel okay taking.

I don’t close the door completely.  My doctors did not discourage me, and really, the statistics are good with more than 90% of people going on to have an unaffected pregnancy following a preeclamptic one.  But odds are Jude is my last baby and today’s purchase was my last nursing bra.

In other news, I forgot that I took care of scheduling the first round of doctor’s appointments a few days ago, and this evening I hung things on the wall in the nursery and put things on the overhead shelf. I should take pictures of this, but it was dark by the time I actually did it.  I’ll try to do those tomorrow and update this post.

Also, I’m not fond of the way it looks. It’s a giant, cluttered mess. BUT…I did it, and I can’t figure out how to adjust things so I’d like it better, so I’m calling it done. Maybe in a year or four I’ll change it up.  Maybe…

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