Here we go again.

Here we go again.

The title of my blog. It has given me pause to reflect because my original purpose in doing this blog was to chronicle "my fifth and final" pregnancy. As you know, my fifth pregnancy has come and gone- rather in the blink of an eye. In fact, my fifth pregnancy encompassed ten posts on this blog, which now has over a hundred. So it would seem that my original reason for the blog ceases to exist. So now I am changing the focus.
I am instead going to chronicle my sixth and final pregnancy. Surprise. You heard it here first. And when I say final, I mean FINAL. This time for sure, no ands, ifs or buts. Though it's hard to anticipate how one might feel when the situation actually comes, I think I can say with a fair amount of certainty that this will really be it for me and my old uterus. Hopefully, she can still pump one out. She's let me down before, but I still continue to believe her fundamentally capable of rising to the challenge.
Life is interesting. I guess that's something of an understatement, but really, it is. I commented on here before about how life pushes and pulls us along, forcing us to go places we never considered. And such it is again. After losing my last pregnancy, I was pretty much certain that I wouldn't want to try again. I thought 'too much stress', 'too much worry'. Why push our luck when we already have two great children? A boy and a girl, who could really ask for anything more? And though that logic is sound, I guess with the passage of time, that little voice is getting quieter now. And the part of me that still yearns to feel life within me is still there. As I watch my little girl grow, I experience simultaneous joy and sadness. Its incredible to see your baby grow and develop into a special and unique being. But it is a little sad, because when I look at her I no longer see that little baby that I once nursed to sleep. And so it was that on Thursday of last week, my husband and I had a rather long, shall we say, discussion, about this possibility. My husband was hesitant, just in light of everything that has happened. But I was like "so what?" Maybe we have had a bad run of luck, but that is all it is. Bad luck. And I don't think that we can really live our lives with a black cloud hanging over our head "what if...". Because, so far as I can tell, we are all mortal, and therfore anything could happen to any one of us at any point. I could get hit by a car tomorrow and die. He could be stricken with a horrible ailment. Our house could burn to the ground. We are not invincible. The ties that bind us to this earth are, in reality, remarkably fragile. And who among us knows when our string is going to snap? But can we really live our lives always fearing the worst? I think we need to do precisely the opposite. Live our lives believing the best, because any given day could be our last. So we need to fill our lives as much as we can, not fearing death, but embracing life.
I think I missed my calling as a Methodist Minister. But really, it's true. And if and when I get pregnant again, I will fear not the end of it but just enjoy the experience, whatever it yeilds. Because I don't regret the pregnancies I lost. Some our greatest growing, both individually and as a family, happens during those dark hours. And like I told Geoff: even if we have another miscarriage- we get free muffins at the hospital, which is pretty good when you think about it. Of course they were bran, and I don't like bran all that much, but I guess it's good for regularity. See- there's an upside to everything. Well, that is all for now. I shall write more about this issue at a later date.