My Kinda Exact Thoughts on Having Another Baby


I have another confession to make.
In as much that I super want to have another child, a small part of my heart is afraid.
I am turning 30 this year.
We were told during our Maternity and Child Nursing days that a  woman’s reproductive system only works for a good 30 years, after menarche.
I had my period early. I was 9.
Doing the math, I am expecting my menopause before I turn 40!
And they say life begins at 40?!
Late / old age pregnancy may impose dangers to the life of both the child and the mother.
That is what I am afraid of.
Knowing my delicate pregnancy, I am afraid that I may not be able to go through another.
I worry that I might neglect all my existing duties and responsibilities if I become too sickly, again.
One more thing, although Enzo was born 3 weeks earlier than my due date, she was a fighter!
Our beloved Pediatrician did not see the need of placing her in an incubator.
We all gambled on steroid shots while I was having my pre-term labor.
God gave me an almost perfect baby.
She’s healthy, she’s smart, wise, witty, pretty, intelligent.
I exhausted all my efforts and knowledge in raising her upto now.
We, my husband, my parents-in-law, mama, everyone around us, had a share.
I am afraid, just like any parent would feel, if my child will have a congenital deformity, or disability.
I know he / she will still be loved, and praised and adored just like Enzo, but I won’t be around forever.
I won’t always be there when things get tough for them.
God, am I worrying that much?
What triggered me to write about this?
A friend just lost her nephew last Saturday.
The autopsy showed asphyxia.
Goodness! That was soooooooooooo sad.
I can not entertain the feeling of loss of an angel.
I know I have to pray extra harder.
The lord has a better plan for me, and my family.
I’m sure he is bigger than my worries, too!

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