I’m pregnant. With my second child. Due in July.
I’m happy and nervous and terrified about it. For a variety of reasons.
It’s funny being pregnant again. I forgot what it was like.
Last time, I was so happy and thrilled and thought it was the most fascinating thing to happen to me ever. Motherhood was a surprise, something I never thought I’d get to experience. And so I savored every minute of it.
This time around, I feel different. This time, I just think, “Can I lie down now?”
My husband and I have been on the fence for years about whether we should have another child or not.
Our son is three years old. He turned our lives upside down in the best possible way. He’s the most wonderful thing that ever happened to us.
But we’ve been unsure about adding another to the mix. How would we afford it? How would we manage it? How could we handle two when we can barely handle one? Would it change everything? And what if we didn’t do it? Would we regret it forever?
Back and forth, up and down. One minute, we were saying, Yes. The next, we said No. Then Yes. Then No. Around and around we go.
I held out against marriage and motherhood for a long time. I wrote about it a bit in Altared. Because I believed that if I became a wife and a mother, I would have to give up my own dreams. And I had so many dreams.
I wanted to be a writer! I wanted to publish novels!
And then I did get published. And I got an agent who will read my work and who I just adore. And I’m still amazed and feel beyond lucky to have that. Because I know that not everyone who has that same dream gets it.
Once I published the novel, I felt free in a way to want things that I didn’t want before. Things that I was terrified would get in the way of my dreams. Things like being a wife and being a mother.
So I got married. And I did have a kid. And for the past few years, I often thought, “Thank God I was able to publish a novel so that I could enjoy this. The marriage and the motherhood part.” Because it is pretty amazing.
And I know I’m lucky beyond words.
I will tell you that, holy crap, I’m scared now. I am terrified that with the second child, I’ll have to give up on my dreams. I’ve been trying to publish a second novel since my first one was published. I’ve been working and working at it. And the verdict is still out on whether that will happen or not. Although I truly believe, if you work long enough at it, it will happen, sooner or later. I have to believe that.
But now with the other one on the way, there’s just a general feeling of well, how am I going to do this?
There has to be a way. Even with two kids. And a job. There has to be an hour or two in the day I can grab for myself. Somehow. Someway.
“Yeah right,” a friend told me last night. “In five years. When the kids goes to kindergarten.”
And then I started freaking out all over again.
But if you’re a working mom and a writer, please share your experiences or any tips on the Comments. I would love to hear them.
And if you haven’t read it already, check out Tina Fey’s essay about being a working mom in The New Yorker. It was the best thing I’ve read in ages and made me laugh out loud.