Round Two... ding ding ding!

I seem to have a hard time admitting it, but we've been trying for Number Two for a few months now, and I am officially Ambivalent.

(And also Not Pregnant, but that's not much of a surprise, right?)

There must be some little light that goes off around your child's first birthday that lets people know it's time to start inquiring about the five year plan of your uterus. 

"Soooo.... are you guys thinking of having another one?" 

Another slice of Leo's birthday cake? Hell yes! 

"Is it time for number two yet?!"

Nah, he usually waits until after his nap to take a number two.

"Any *exciting* plans for this year?"

Yes, we plan to sleep through the night for three or four consecutive months! Keep your fingers crossed for us! 

In reality, I tell people that I would love to have another kid but I really, really don't want to go through another round of trying to conceive, another difficult pregnancy or another "fourth trimester." I'd really prefer to just have a stork drop off a six month old baby, all chunky and smiling and sitting up independently. Is that a thing? Can I just go on Amazon Prime and order Leo's brother or sister with two day delivery? (I'll be careful not to click "Subscribe and Save" by accident... you wouldn't believe how many razors I piled up before I remembered to cancel that thing!)

When I think back on the journey of getting to Leo, it's hard not to let it turn into a Greatest Hits collection of miserable experiences. The devastation of miscarrying, the anxiety and disappointment of failed cycle after failed cycle. The endless discomfort of pregnancy, with all of the barfing and backaches and swollen extremities. Insomnia for weeks before delivery then sleep deprivation for weeks afterwards. My unbelievably shitty delivery. My struggle and ultimate failure to breastfeed, which took me down to levels of depression and anger that I didn't even know existed. It really fucking sucked. I'm not saying there weren't some nice moments, but overall it felt like running a marathon in a hurricane. 

Of course it was worth it. Of course I'd do it a thousand more times for the incredible little boy I have today. Of course I'd walk through fire, swim across oceans, climb the highest mountain for him. But I would also pause at the edge of the fire or the mouth of the bay or the bottom of the mountain and be like, "Oh man. Do I really have to? Ugh. This sucks."   

So that's what I'm doing now. I'm dutifully taking my folic acid and tracking my cycles and doing It, and I'm squinting up at the top of the mountain and grumbling to myself. It's probably not going to be an easy journey. (Already my cycles are going batshit crazy - I'm on day 44 right now, with negative tests and no period in sight, lucky me!) But I know that there's another little soul waiting for me up at the summit, and I'm on my way to find him. (Or her?)