This year has been quite peculiar. It’s one of those years where you find yourself questioning everything. Thankfully, nothing truly negative has happened to me personally—not directly, at least. In fact, the first four months of 2017 were relatively good. I’ve made new friends, explored new places, started a new job, and even received a writing award—essentially my industry’s version of the Oscars.
Yet, despite these achievements, I find it hard to celebrate. I struggle to savor the positives or appreciate the small joys in life. There’s this one pressing thought that occupies my mind—something that hasn’t come to fruition yet. I can’t shake off the desire for another baby, despite the heartache that comes with trying to conceive.
My husband and I started attempting to conceive our second child last summer. Unlike before, we weren’t overly structured about it. We had plenty of spontaneous, unprotected intimacy, but we didn’t track ovulation or use any apps. I hadn’t bought any ovulation predictor kits, either. After all, our first child was conceived within six weeks of trying—quick and easy.
However, this time around, the months have slipped away quietly, and with each cycle that passes, I feel a mix of pain and emptiness. I long for a sibling for my daughter, but I can’t ignore the anxiety that comes with the thought of another pregnancy.
While I yearn for a second child, the mere idea of it terrifies me. I adore my daughter—she’s vibrant, intelligent, and full of life. My first pregnancy was beautiful; everything went smoothly, and we were thrilled. But the joy quickly faded after I gave birth. Once home from the hospital, I found myself overwhelmed by emotions that came out of nowhere.
I felt angry, sad, and anxious. The tears flowed uncontrollably, sometimes several times a day. At first, I thought I was merely exhausted and stressed, but then darker thoughts crept in. I started contemplating death, and that’s when I recognized something was deeply wrong. I sought help, and after seeing a psychologist and undergoing therapy, it took me a grueling 16 months to emerge from postpartum depression. During that time, I made a firm decision: I wouldn’t have another child.
The experience was harrowing, and the thought of going through it again with a new baby and a young daughter was unfathomable. I knew I was not alone in feeling this way—many moms grapple with similar concerns after experiencing postpartum depression.
Three years later, however, I find myself in a situation I never thought I’d face again. It’s a strange and awkward feeling, caught in a limbo where each arrival of my cycle brings mixed emotions. The sight of blood can elicit a sense of relief and sadness simultaneously. Each negative test results in a drink to celebrate but also a period of mourning for the child that could have been. I ache for that baby, yet the fear of reliving my past struggles with PPD looms large.
I realize this is my reality until I either welcome another child or my feelings evolve. I’m afraid yet still yearn for you, little one. If you’re experiencing postpartum anxiety or PPD, there are resources available for support. For further guidance on pregnancy, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy.
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Summary:
This article discusses the complex emotions of wanting another child while grappling with the aftermath of postpartum depression (PPD). The author reflects on the challenges of trying to conceive after experiencing anxiety and sadness post-birth, illustrating a struggle shared by many mothers.