• Jamie

"Let's have kids"

Updated: a day ago

I never wanted kids.

Whether it was because I was always the youngest and didn’t grow up around babies, or because they’re stinky and sticky.

Or if it was because I wasn’t sure I could have them.

Whatever it was, I never penciled the responsibility of a small human being into my life.

Two years ago, at a check-up, I asked my doctor if it was even possible for me to have kids.

“We aren’t sure, but there’s no point in testing until you start trying”.

So essentially, I was going to have to decide I wanted kids, and then potentially get the option taken away from me if it turned out I couldn’t? Lovely.

A year ago today, I came home from the gym, walked into the garage and informed Gregg that I may want children.

The video below is of him returning after taking off and running down the street (as a joke, or not, I am still not sure).

After being so sick from ages 12 – 18 and assuming I had ruined any chance of being able to have children, and the eight years after that getting my body to a place where it was self-regulated, but still accepting the fact that kids probably wouldn’t be in the cards, I decided I wanted to try.

My thought process was that if we tried and I couldn’t get pregnant, then fine.

If we tried and I could get pregnant, great.

Never once during those moments did I consider both of those occurring.

That I could get pregnant, but only for 22.5 weeks.

That my body was healthy enough to carry a child, but the Lord would change his mind halfway through and decide it wasn’t time.

Had I known the Hell that has been these past two months, I don’t know if I ever would have walked into the house and told Gregg I changed my mind.

Had I known that my baby was going to get so sick while in the safest place I thought she could be and not make it; had I known that every pregnancy from here on out will be spent in tense silence until the 20-week appointment; had I known that hitting the 12-week mark meant literally nothing when it came to making it to the “safe zone”.

I’m not sure if I would have tried to become a mom.

Had I known the heartbreak and grief that would appear in place of a child to hold.

I’m not sure I would have put myself (or my husband) through that.

I survived it once, and I'm not sure I could survive it again.

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