Pregnancy as a wish granted; as the last time.

Because it is in my nature to be negative; I am going to start off by saying my pregnancy with Ashton was not nine months of complete bliss.  Naturally, I was pretty sick the first three-four months with morning/afternoon/evening sickness.  Once I got past that I had already started packing on the pounds that totalled 45 by the time I delivered.  I was swollen and did not have the energy or drive to workout.  I could not find a pair of shoes that fit my feet to save my life, even the ugly Crocs wouldn't fit.  I was left with slippers in the middle of winter.  Thank goodness this winter has been unlike any winter I can remember; pretty much zero snow in the valley.  I was blessed with a loving husband who willingly painted my toenails, cooked, cleaned, etc.  Okay, pretty much everything without complaint.   

My pregnant state is not what I care to remember; it is the unspoken agreement from Jesse that he was finally ready to give me what I had wanted for so many years - the experience to be a mom again, a sibling for Taeden, someone to create memories with, another child to love.  It was in those moments that I felt the most trust and love from him. 

We agreed that this child would be our last.  Factoring our financial status, our age, and Taeden's age this is what makes sense to us; to our particular situation.  I have never been one to think too deep about anything.  I don't really let work expectations, money, or other important responsibilities get to me.  It's not because I don't care, because I do.  But for some reason I just don't think about things deep, or long term enough to let it bother me.  As an example; it was not until the night before my major brain surgery when I was in the hospital, in bed that I had a full blown anxiety attack.  It came out of nowhere and makes perfect sense.  To me this is a blessing and a curse. 

It was not until my newborn was taken from my arms and my husband left the delivery room that my heart began to sink.  I just finished a 15 hour labor to a pregnancy that I felt was going to be the death of me and all I could think was "I made the wrong decision."  (referring to getting my tubes tied.)  This decision was not pressured on me and I had a number of opportunities to change my mind and to speak it, but I didn't.  I will never forget the mixed feelings I had laying in the surgical room on the cold steel table surrounded by people in masks that carried on regular conversations while ending my ability to bring another life into this world. The feeling of urgency to get to my new baby, it felt like I was in that room for a lifetime.  The time spent in that operating room is when I experianced pregnancy for the last time.