I’m Joining the 2 Under 2 Club

My kids will be 14 months apart and I didn’t exactly plan it this way

Photo by juan pablo rodriguez on Unsplash

I have this weird ritual I will do every so often to make my period start. I’ll take a pregnancy test.

When I see it’s negative, I get it soon after. Not instantly but within a day or too. This practice has absolutely no scientific backing and I am not suggesting this works in any way. It’s more psychologically for me.

In mid-December 2023 I was a day late and decided to do my weird ritual. I had been feeling more emotional in the last few days, so I was certain my period was on its way. For me, once my period starts my emotions go back to baseline.

“There’s no way I’m pregnant already,” I calmly thought to myself. Granted we were ‘not being careful’ for the last two months, but I already had reasons banked in my mind of why it was improbable that I’d be pregnant already. There are many forces working against conceiving a baby.

In my position, secondary infertility was a possibility. Secondary infertility is when a couple struggles to have another child after already having one. The universe was bound to throw this at me I thought.

Then I considered my age. I’m 38 and I assumed it would be more difficult. While it’s true that fertility typically declines with age, individual fertility experiences can vary greatly. Factors such as overall health, genetics, lifestyle, and reproductive history can influence fertility outcomes.

While studies may show trends in decreased fertility for women over 35, it doesn’t mean it’s impossible to conceive. Many women in their late 30s and even 40s do conceive naturally. My personal experience of conceiving and giving birth at 37 and again conceiving at 38 is a testament to this variability and the complexity of fertility.

I was also a day late, but I banked on the erratic cycles that are common postpartum. Who’s to say I was even ovulating? What’s one day late? I thought. Evidently it can mean everything.

That day I decided to destress by working on an art mural project in our basement. For about an hour I painted a large section of the basement wall and started mapping out how I would paint the mural. It was so excited to be working on a large-scale art project again.

I had very rarely been able to spend a long time on a project I was excited about since our son was born. I felt like I was finally getting into a groove with balancing baby and my own priorities.

The boy had been taking a nap but his cries from upstairs signaled that he was awake, and I had to stop painting. “I’ll get back to this later,” I said to myself as I got off the ladder and went upstairs to get my son.

Because I had been feeling more emotional and wanted my period to start, I decided to do my weird ritual. I took the pregnancy test, set it on the counter and went to play with my son.

A few minutes later I glanced at the test indifferently already seeing the negative in my mind. I quickly did a triple take when I saw that BFP.

In pregnancy forums and discussions, the acronym BFP means Big Fat Positive indicating they have a positive test and that they are pregnant.

My jaw dropped. The line was very dark. There was no denying it. Holy shit I kept repeating.

Being pregnant again just five months after having my first baby scared me a lot. TBH, I cried for days I was so scared. I wanted this baby, we wanted this baby, but I was still in the trenches with my then five-month-old son and had started to see myself in the light at the end of the infant-stage tunnel.

Would I physically be able to do it? I am not one of those women who love or even like pregnancy. It feels like being in jail to me. Mentally could I do the first trimester sickness and exhaustion while raising my son?

What about the third trimester when I would be uncomfortable on so many levels that labor starts looking really nice.

Turns out I could get through the first trimester with the help of my fiancé and family. I found an old AA coin from one of the few meetings I attended (wasn’t my thing) and I took the mantra “One Day at a time” very literally.

Emotionally, it’s a wild ride too. Hormones are doing their thing, and sometimes it feels like I’m on the edge of a breakdown. I worry if I’m giving my son enough attention and love, and always wondering if I’m doing this whole “mom” thing right. Guilt is my frequent companion.

Although I’m in the second trimester and the nausea is gone and exhaustion has mostly lifted, I still feel like I’m working doubles hungover. Everything takes twice as long with a baby attached to your hip, and finding a spare moment to write this article has taken me a very long time.

This pregnancy I find myself trying to prepare more for the third trimester, anticipating what my son will be able to get into by the time he is 14 months old and just making lists upon lists. I’m wondering if 5 months is too early to nest.

I’m so happy to be able to give my son a sibling who will be so close in age. I feel like it gives them a better chance to be tight from a younger age. My sister and I are four years apart and we didn’t start liking each other until I was 18. Seriously.

Like my fiancé said during my first ultrasound of the pregnancy, “Here we go again!”