Mr X made his appointment with his Dr. Finally. Mid-May. 4 more weeks and then maybe we'll know.
I'll be going along. When he goes by himself all he hears is "blah blah, very bad blah blah die.....".
He's talking about the future in more positive tones again. Talking about when we'll start trying again. What we'll name our next baby.
Whether this is because he no longer feels that he's going to die by the end of the year or if he's gone back to denial I don't know. He just won't talk about it.
I've been putting off thinking about the next baby. I can only handle one panic attack at a time.
In those rare moments when I do think about it; think about all that goes with it, I have to remind myself to breathe.
If I'm honest with myself, I admit that I'm scared.
As much as I would love to have another baby, another pregnancy, I wonder if I have the heart for it.
I fear repeating everything we had to go through just to have Hurricane.
I fear another black year.
I wonder if I'm being greedy. Shouldn't I just be happy with what I have? Do I really have the right to go back and do this again?
What if things go south again? What if it doesn't and I spend 9 months in a constant state of tension as I did with Hurricane?
Could I carry on day to day, being a good mom to my kids, wife to my husband, if history repeated itself?
And let's be frank. The likelihood of that is pretty damn good.
But at the end of it all, I know it's what I want. It'd just be nice if I could be knocked out cold for 9 months, wake up and have everything just so.