A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

If you're reading this, you probably already know that I had really bad postpartum depression with Jack. Like, REALLY bad. Like, so bad that for a very long time, I thought that Jack would be an only child. And I was ok with that.

Except I wasn't.

I wanted another baby so badly. More than anything. But I was so afraid. I didn't think I could go through it again. And how was I even supposed to survive the pregnancy? I couldn't get off the medications to treat my depression and anxiety, and they weren't safe to take during pregnancy. I told myself I was ok with it. I told myself that my perfect little boy was all my heart needed. But no matter how I tried to make peace with my situation, I longed for another child.

It wasn't just me. David wanted another baby too, but he was loving and kind about it. He never pushed for another child. He was there through the Darkness after Jack was born. He knew what I went through. But when I would express to him how much I wanted another baby, he would always say, "Yeah... me too...". And I knew he was just as sad as I was. And Jackson, oh my. He BEGGED for a baby. Specifically, he wanted a brother, but he was "ok, I guess" about a sister. He wasn't as subtle as David about it. Every time we passed a baby he would go nuts. All his friends had siblings, and he was jealous and sad that he didn't have one. I felt guilty about that, too. My little brother was a pain in the ass, but he was one of the best things that ever happened in my life.

Everyone thinks infertility is something that only happens when your reproductive organs don't function properly. But trust me, struggling with mental illness is just as legitimate a form of infertility as any other. People don't understand that it took 4.5 years after Jack was born to be able to have another baby.

In 2 days, it will be Greg's first birthday. For so long, I didn't believe my prayers for a 2nd baby would be answered, but they were, and every day with him in our lives is a blessing. I've spent the past few days reflecting on how I was able to overcome my fears and bring him into the world. I get emotional about it.

When the doctor placed Greg on my chest, my heart exploded. (If you have kids, you totally get what I'm talking about.) I was out of my mind with joy, and in my hallucinogenic euphoria, my first words to him were, "I'm your Mommy, and I love you. I prayed for you, and here you are." I cried tears of joy so hard that the nurse beside me started crying, too.

Every time I look at him, I can't believe he's really here. I can't believe that for so many years, I thought he would never exist. I look back on the courage it took to become pregnant again, and I know it was God who gave it to me.

I won't go into details about what it took to summon the courage and how difficult the pregnancy was without my medication to help me. Maybe that's for another blog. Today, all reflecting on is GRATITUDE.

I'm so happy now, sometimes I think I could explode. I have everything.