This is one of those posts where I’m not sure if I’ll hit publish, but it’s something I feel like I need to write to control my thoughts.
Recently I’ve been having a health problem – breast pain, it’s been persistent, as in it hasn’t gone away for around 2 months now. I’ve been to the GP and I now have a referral to go to the breast clinic in just over a week. I tried not to think about it and took the Evening Primrose Oil that the GP suggested. There aren’t any lumps, but I have experienced other changes in my breasts, all of which I’m not sure if they are related to stopping breastfeeding after nearly 2 years and losing weight or if there is something more serious.
Either way, sometimes a health issue hits you and you suddenly start to think about the ‘what ifs’. A few years ago I had recurrent abdominal pain and had to have my ovaries scanned; R and I hadn’t been together long (about a year) but it made us have the conversation about ‘what if’ in relation to kids. We discussed worst case scenarios and discussed adoption and every other option we could think of. In the end we settled on ‘we would deal with whatever was thrown at us’. Luckily there wasn’t anything sinister in the scans and I’m still not sure why I had such awful abdominal pains, but it was something that made us think.
This time around, we have Oliver. We always said we wanted to have a reasonably big gap between children and then when he proposed we said we would wait until after the wedding. Oliver is desperate for a baby brother or sister (he’s favouring a brother at the moment and apparently they will have bunk beds) and we have taken for granted the idea that we will have another baby and it will happen when we expect it to.
But what if it doesn’t all go to plan?
The issue with my breast pain has really made me stop and think about all of the assumptions that I made previously;
That I’d have another baby.
That I’d breastfeed again.
That I’d breastfeed until self weaning again.
Then I might have another baby after that and do it all over again.
But What if it doesn’t all go to plan?
What if the problem in my breast is more serious than we hoped?
What if I can’t have any more children?
What if I can never give Oliver that brother or sister that he longs for?
What if I will never be able to breastfeed again?
It’s hard being in limbo, it’s the not knowing that makes you think about the worst case scenario. Almost like a defence mechanism to prepare yourself, just in case. I don’t have the answers to any of my questions, and yet again it’s one of those things that I will just have to wait and see. The sheer fact I’ve had these thoughts has changed my perspective on it all though. I feel even more lucky that Oliver surprised us, because what if we had got to now without any children? What if I had never got to feel that closeness, that bond and that love. What if I never knew what it was to be a mother. What if I never got to prove myself wrong?