Dear Baby Number Two,
I want to start by clarifying that I’m not pregnant with you, nor am I currently trying to conceive. It’s not that I don’t desire you; in fact, it’s because I care deeply for you that I take a small blue pill each morning, managing bloating and other side effects that come with birth control.
I know it might seem confusing, but now is simply not the right moment. You deserve the best—just like your older sibling, Mia—but I can’t offer you that at this stage of my life. I’m emotionally unprepared and financially unstable. I’m actively working on the former, seeing a therapist every Wednesday, who happens to be pregnant herself. The sight of her growing belly stirs up feelings of longing for you. As for the financial aspect, your father and I are still navigating those challenges, and we aren’t quite there yet.
There is also a more troubling issue that weighs heavily on me. After Mia was born, I faced postpartum depression. It wasn’t merely the baby blues or exhaustion; it was a profound darkness that enveloped me during her first year. I suppressed tears while she learned to feed and smile. I wept at her milestones, feeling unworthy of the title “mama.” I wasn’t the loving mother I wanted to be, and that realization crushed me.
While I am on the mend, I still grapple with the fear of being that inadequate mother—just a woman with a child rather than the parent Mia or you deserve. I yearn to become a better version of myself before welcoming you into our family.
Every time someone asks, “Are you trying for baby number two?” it stings. I want to, but I can’t. It’s not a matter of physical inability—though I know my struggles are minor compared to those facing fertility issues—it feels like a personal failure. Reason tells me that waiting is the right choice, yet it doesn’t lessen the ache of knowing you’re not part of our family, at least not yet. The decision to hold off makes me miss you even more.
Still, there are days when I envision you, baby number two. I wonder about your gender, your eye color, and if I’ll ever get to see them. I think about how Mia will react when she meets you. Will she shower you with kisses like she does with her doll? Will she patiently teach you how to ask for cookies with that charming “pwease”? Or will I wait too long, and she’ll be too grown up to care?
Some days, I feel ready—ready to start trying for you—but deep down, I know that we aren’t there yet. Not just yet. For those considering similar paths, resources like March of Dimes provide excellent guidance on fertility treatments, while Intracervical Insemination offers valuable insights for navigating this journey. If you’re looking to boost fertility, consider checking out Make a Mom for tips on supplements that may help.
In summary, while I long for baby number two, now is not the ideal time for our family. I’m working on becoming the best version of myself for you and your sister.