Today was Yom Kippur. I am not Jewish, so it holds no religious significance for me.
It was on Yom Kippur, three years ago, that I learned of my first miscarriage and, a few days later, had my first D&C.
The pain has abated and there are days when I don’t think about it, but my heart is still broken. Even with my happy, healthy son here, I often yearn for what was taken from me: the romance of pregnancy, the optimistic outlook, and, of course, the pregnancy and child that never was.
And then it happened all over again.
But this story, at least this chapter, has a happy ending. S is 15 months old and is, quite honestly, perfect. When I imagined being a mom, I didn’t really think about late-night feedings, cracking nipples, and incessant spit-up. Motherhood now, however, very much resembles what I imagined it would be. It is indeed the hardest job you will ever love.
So, this chapter, this phase, of this blog comes to an end. I am too busy trying to balance everything out between my professional life (teaching, publishing, tenure requirements, etc…) and being a mother to S. I don’t really have the energy at the end of the day to blog about it as I am too busy just, well, living it.
But this story is not over, because, of course, I want another one. Not now. But soon. I need to have my body to myself for a little bit. I need to figure out how to be the kind of mom and professor that I want to be. I need to get my mojo back, because it’s been years since I have seen it. Once I get this all figured out (or admit defeat), I will be back.
And, because everyone loves a cute kid picture, here is Baby S: