End to the Means
When you are trying to get pregnant, or trying to stay pregnant, it is all consuming. You live you life in two week increments: waiting to ovulate; waiting to take a pregnancy test; waiting for the next ultrasound, etc….
Here I am with Baby S, my wonderful, glorious son, and I feel like I should be doing something else. I feel — dare I say it? — like I should be trying to get pregnant.
The problem is, I do not think I am ready to be pregnant again. I am still breastfeeding and I would like to have some time to have my body to myself before I have to share it again. I would like to lose weight. I would like to work on my research. I would like to not have to divide my attention between Baby S and another child.
Yet, there is this nagging feeling that I should be doing more. Is it my biological clock ticking? Or it is just that for years, a healthy pregnancy was all that I wanted? I am not sure. I do want another one, I really, really, really do, but I can’t pinpoint why I keep thinking about it so much right now. Baby S is only nine months old. Still, it might be easier to just stay in the trenches? To just do it now instead of waiting?
Or perhaps I have just become obsessed with the means and not the end.