This Is Our Pregnancy Announcement
Since the last time I visited The Morning Gloria, we found out we are having another girl, with the same due date as my miscarriage in December. I am of advanced maternal age, 35, and so we know it’s a girl a lot earlier than we knew with Gloria because of the genetic testing they encourage you to do as a geriatric pregnant person. I had Gloria when I was a mere 31 years of age; a teen mother in the Nashville music world, and an ancient mother in the Mississippi world. The blood test from a few weeks ago came back missing the Y chromosome, and for now, has regular ol’ X chromosomes. This will be my last baby, so I feel part bummed to know I won’t have a son, but mostly relieved because I know girls. We’re both from heavy girl families. Alex and I are both extremely thankful we never have to have the circumcision talk, it was the first thing we said when we got the news.
I know this isn’t the exciting balloons photoshoot and confetti and pictures of ultrasounds and the gender reveal. For one, none of that is my thing, but more than that, I have many people in my life who are experiencing hardships around child loss, pregnancy loss, and infertility, and though I know they’re all very happy for us, I just can’t stop thinking about them and what these internet celebrations mean to them.
I’m just going to be honest here since this is my homemade journal website. OF COURSE, we are thrilled. I’m excited about so many things; mostly the oxytocin from tiny baby smells and sounds, my mom’s cooking, nursing again, and doing all of this with the perspective that going through this before has given me. The greatest lesson I gained in motherhood is knowing that everything is temporary. I am so lucky to do this all over again with this sacred knowledge that this will pass so quickly. I did not have this wisdom when I was new with Gloria, and I was terribly depressed and scared that I’d never have a life again. I always felt that everything hard would last forever. But that didn’t happen! And even with that wisdom, I realize I have lost a chunk of myself in motherhood, which became highly exacerbated when I moved away and lost the community that knows me. My life is work, grocery lists, fights about food and bathing and clothing with Gloria, and it’s so full and beautiful, and it’s exhausting.
And I’m sorry to share the news this way, nobody wants to hear this when it comes to new babies. I feel guilty having so many emotions about it, especially since I am so lucky. Bringing someone into the world, the fact that we’re all here is a miracle. And…birthing a baby flipped a switch in me that turned me into a depressed person, and the pregnancy hormones may have the depression a little more turned on than it normally is. I have it mostly in check and survive pretty well without medication, but the second the new baby comes, I asked my doctor to hand me 50 mg of Zoloft. I won’t even give myself a chance to deal with this postpartumly.
I realized I was pregnant when I cried tears of joy at a sales meeting at work. A co-worker met a goal and was rewarded with tickets for his whole family to go see someone they admire greatly and would all get to meet him. It was so touching, and the tears came, which is normal for me, but then they didn’t stop. So at lunch, I went and took a test. I felt relief that it could happen again, and I felt fear that it would end again. I was sweaty and emotional the whole rest of the day. Everything has been pretty smooth, aside from some of the normal symptoms-nausea, dizziness, headaches, and FATIGUE.
Nothing like being a woman in a male-dominated workplace. I’ve done it pregnant twice now. And it’s a wonderful feeling knowing you can do every single thing the guys do, while pregnant and in heels. Or being a woman in the workplace experiencing a miscarriage. I’ve done that, too. Or the women who go to work every day dealing with all of the hormones from IVF treatments. Or working while on your period. All of the ways we show up, doing what’s expected of us and doing a great job, under challenging circumstances. It makes me proud. Let’s give ourselves a pat on the back for that.
Now I’m experiencing this other component you have with your subsequent pregnancies that can’t exist with your first. The grief of your first baby! So many emotions! I already miss Gloria because of the anticipation of her getting less of my attention. We’ve had 4 entire years together, she’ll be nearly 5 when this baby comes. I love her so much it hurts. Moms talk all the time about how your heart just doubles with your next child, and I know that will happen, but you don’t love your newborn like you love your full on lived-in kid. I love Gloria so much more than I ever did, it’s like a balloon that has never stopped inflating and is incapable of popping. I know this is to be expected with the next one, too, but we still have to get to know each other. It’s just that natural feeling that was to be expected.
The extra layer to that is the guilt that this baby gets an entirely different version of me than poor Gloria had when she was that small. She made me who I am now. I’m more fragile and much tougher, as little sense as that makes, because of her. She broke me in like a leather shoe. I owe anything good that I’ll be bringing to this new baby to my Gloria. It’s the reason birth order is so frequently a determination of personality. I wish I could have had the wisdom I have now for Gloria when she was tiny. I didn’t know I was depressed until Gloria was 7 months old and I wanted to drive my car into a tree, by myself thank goodness, on the way to help. Zoloft saved my life, and now this baby won’t have to experience me the way Gloria did.
But even while depressed, those were such precious days. I dreaded the lack of sleep AND cherished those night nursing sessions that lasted until she was 8 months old. Sacred moments in my life. So exhausted and still having such a hard time separating from her. Rocking her for an extra half hour when I could’ve been sleeping, because her cheeks were too kissable. Singing songs I made up to my sleeping angel. Good grief. It was magic, even in my most fragile state.
Anyway…to end this on the most wonderful note: Sisters.
I got to have two, and a friend who is my sister in all ways except blood. There is nothing like it in the world. The communication without words. The sharing and handing down of clothes. When my older sister would send a box of her clothes to us, it was better than Christmas morning. Even the epic fights with my little sister-the way you can be your ugliest self and still love and defend each other.
Several months ago I asked Gloria what she thought about mommy and daddy having a baby. She exclaimed, emphatically, she only wanted a sister. I explained to her that we don’t get to pick whether we have a boy or a girl, and what would happen if she had a brother? Her response: “That can be daddy’s baby” with a hand motion that said ‘absolutely not’. So she already knew that she was meant to have a little sister. I daydream about all of the sweet ways she’ll love this little girl, how she’ll be such a helper, and how she’ll teach her things as she grows older. It’s pretty wonderful.
Thank you for being here when I talk about all the good and ugly things in my brain guts. I love every one of you, and your caring about our family means the world to me. If you would be so kind, please leave a comment below with your Grandmother’s name. I don’t want anyone’s name born after the year 1940. I want an unusual, but familiar, old lady name, that Alex can get on board with. Think something in the vein of Gloria…because we nailed it with that one. Objectively. I’d appreciate it very much :)