Fact #1. We want kids.
Fact #2. I'm a scaredy-cat.
Fact #3. I'm a control freak.
Which brings me to today's blog... we're no longer preventing pregnancy. We're not TRYING, (because there's apparently procedures, etc. for that) but we're not making effort to stop it anymore.
Isaac let me know several months ago, he would be thrilled if a little wiggle worm dropped out anytime now. I, on the other hand, have been much more hesitant. For several reasons--some of them legitimate, others not so much.
What if I'm a horrible mother? What if Isaac's residency ends up being in Michigan and I go through a severe round of depression again? What if I end up feeling alone because he's gone at the hospital all the time? What if I become suicidal? What if I don't love them good enough? What if the chemo did something crazy to my body and I have mentally challenged kids? Will I have enough patience for that? Will I even have enough patience for a normal child? What if my cancer comes back while I'm pregnant? What if I get really huge--like, monstrously huge? What if my acne acts up while I'm pregnant and I get pizza face again?
Ugh.
Obviously, some of these aren't as important as others. Isaac says my mom genes will kick in and it will all be okay, regardless of the circumstances. And he's probably right.
Through my cancer experience I learned I better handle things when I don't know what to expect. Whoever first said that ignorance is bliss was my dispositional twin; I can roll with the punches as long as I can't tell where I'll get hit next.
So I'm lowering my guard and leave myself open for a beating that will probably rip me apart physically and exhaust me mentally.
I heard the payoff is definitely worth it.
