Pregnant? Oh please no.....

I had a dream last night that I was pregnant. I think. I think it was a dream, well, at this point in my life it would seem more like a nightmare, but it was around 3am when I got up to go potty and take some pain medicine. I laid in bed for the next hour and a half contemplating what another pregnancy would mean for our family. Firstly, I'm pretty sure Kurt would break something, or at least put his hand through one of our walls. He might swear once or twice, and then he would be really, really quiet for a few days - all the while, I would be talking and talking and trying to make things seem okay, even though inside I was dying. Then I would get mad at him for not having a better attitude and I would remind him who was going to spend the next several months sick. I thought about this for a little while.

Then I thought about how many people I know who would give anything to have a baby. I thought about how ironic it is that people seldom get what they want, when they want it. I thought about some close friends who have tried for three years to get pregnant and finally are (!) but still cautious because the thought of miscarriage is always there. I thought about one of my favorite blog designers, April Durham, and her public battle to have a baby - and the countless others that I know who would do anything for a little person to join their family. A little blessing and all of the diapers and sleepless nights and joyful moments that accompany that blessing.

Then I thought about my favorite moments in my life and how they were the four moments when each of my children were born. There is NOTHING that compares to holding a new little spirit so fresh from heaven, the smell, the feel of tinyness, everything. And a part of me hoped, just for a moment, that perhaps my dream was really one more of those moments in my life when the spirit has spoken to me in a way that only I can understand.

Those happy thoughts were quickly replaced with memories of years of post-partum depression that are over and in the past. It's a chapter of my life that I've closed with a sigh of relief, happy to never walk through that valley again. I've said before, and I'll say it again, if Post-Partum Depression weren't a part of the baby package for me I would have more children. But it's gotten worse with every pregnancy and there comes a point when you know that it's enough. I don't want to do that one again. I don't want my family to have to deal with everything that accompanies it either. Life is crazy right now, especially because they already have a Mom who is in pain most of the time. To add to that craziness would be....crazy! Loud, happy kids run around our home right now and wish for spring. They are loud, Mom and Dad say shhh, even when there isn't a reason to (habit you know!) and it's okay. Add one more to the mix and we may lose our minds...literally !

Of course I'll be watching for the tale-tell signs of NOT pregnant, but since I had a D/C during my surgery last Dec. 16th my cycle is all messed up. oooh the suspense :P