A Mother At 31

After my first experience with motherhood and learning things about the person I was married to I had fully resigned myself to the fact that I would not have other children. When it is wrong to bring another living being into the world, when that child will not have the best of both parents, you turn off the alarm on the ticking clock and forget the best you can the dream of having a flock of children. Had I married the right person the first time I would have many children. At the age of 30, finally I thought things had changed enough, evolved enough, that having another child would add to our lives. That having another child would continue this good path we were walking. I made the conscious decision to have another child. So we did. Previously I had agreed to try again at surrogate mothering. I had in-vitro that resulted a viable pregnancy. My body however could not do it. I had developed an intolerance to the hormone therapy. We had switched from injection to micronized forms in suppository method. I got sicker every day. I developed a yeast infection from hell and eventually my body just gave up. I miscarried what we believe to have been triplets. For me that was the end. I did not have it in me in try again. My body bounced back very quickly. In the following months I got pregnant by choice. In no way did it having anything to do with being a surrogate in the past. It had everything to do with saving my marriage. I really thought having another baby at this point in my marriage would solidify the newfound goodness, bring us closer together and make us happier. It was like starting over. I am not suggesting these are good reasons to have a child. It is the reason I did. Being a mother at 31 is so very different from being a mother at 20. At 20, regardless of how grown up you think you are, you are still a kid in so many ways. I know I was. Having a baby at that age I had a choice to grow up and be responsible or not. I chose to grow up. A lot of my growing I did with Colby. It was all trial and error with a great big learning curve. I learned how to be a mother to and for Colby. When Gracie was born in no way did the learning stop but I was already mother. Most everyone will tell you that after the first time it is easier with a second and successive children. You have a pretty good idea of what to expect. You have confidence in caring for a baby. You know that name brand diapers (back then) didn't mean anything and it was ok to use a cheaper diaper in the day time. You learn that saying no very early does not cause deformation of their growing little mind. You know that eating dirt in the sandbox will not give your child stomach worms. You just know instinctively how to do the job. I also belive you don't question yourself near as much. You begin to trust your judgement. At 30 we had a very nice home, filled will lovely furnishings. We had the cars and some money. We weren't struggling to make it like we had ten years before. I had grown as a person. I was confident in myself. I had developed a bit of patience far beyond what a 20 year old ever has. At that age I was ready to be a mother. Being a mother is physical. Being a mother is emotional. Being a mother is spiritual. In the past I had been all these things over a period of time. Having a child at that stage in my life being a mother was all of those things at the same time. Motherhood was wrapped up in a great bundle where the physical, emotional and spiritual came together in this big swirling vortex of oneness. To be continued ...