Becoming a mama...again.

Charina Urban
Nov 12, 2018
4 min read

Growing up, I always imagined having two or three kids. Perfect scenario, two boys and a girl.

But, the moment Paxton was placed in my arms two years ago, everything changed. I couldn't see beyond him. I couldn't love another tiny person the way I loved him; there wasn't enough love left in my heart.

The day I went back to work after maternity leave and had to hand him over to someone else, my heart broke into a million tiny pieces. I cried the entire way to work. I poured over pictures and videos on my phone of him and texted his nanny almost every hour. I barley put him down after getting home that night and told him over and over again I loved him.

When friends and family came to visit, they would ask if we wanted another child and I would quickly respond, "no, I don't think so".

I just couldn't imagine it. I couldn't imagine loving anyone else they way I loved Pax. I truly didn't think there was enough room in my heart. And I couldn't bring myself to go through the heartache again of having to be away from my little person. Was that selfish of me? Probably. But I would rather admit to being selfish and not wanting to experience that pain a second time, than jump on the 'typical family of four' band-wagon without thought.

So for many months I felt this way. Paxton was it. He was my baby, my son, and the only child I would ever bring into this world. I would never again feel life dancing inside my body or hear what a heartbeat sounds like in the womb. I had made my mind up and completely accepted my decision.

But, God works in mysterious ways.

In January I started feeling the pains of my endometriosis again. It was agonizing and brutal and returned with a vengeance. I went to see my OB/GYN and he confirmed that it had returned and I had a significantly large cyst on my left ovary. The options presented to me were beginning a pre-menopausal hormone to shut down my system or surgery. He added that if I wanted another baby, I would need to do the surgery anyway to clean out my system making it more hospitable for a baby to grow and less risk of a miscarriage.

At only 25, I couldn't imagine shutting down my system and going through menopause. Having a hysterectomy had been something my husband and I had talked about, but now all of a sudden that scared me. It was so FINAL. Menopause was essentially the same decision, but without surgery. I wasn't so sure of myself anymore and that scared me. A little seed of desire and curiosity had been planted in my heart that I didn't even realize was ready for planting.

Little by little, God started to water and grow that seed and my longing to have another child became so strong, I could hardly control it. So we thought about it and prayed about it, and decided that this was put on our hearts for a reason, and it was time to try again.

I underwent my third endometriosis surgery in March and started taking prenatal vitamins right away. I tried multiple fertility exercises, fertility diets, stopped drinking wine, timed every ovulation, recorded every symptom, and tracked my period for months.

And with each month that passed there came another negative sign and disappointment. I began to question why this desire had flared up like a roaring wildfire if each month the answer would be a resounding no. I cried on the bathroom floor on more than one occasion and apologized to my husband profusely for the disease that was running ramped in my body and keeping us from growing our family. He of course, always would grab my face and tell me there was nothing to apologize for and he loved me no matter what. Maybe adoption was where we were supposed to head on our journey. It didn't matter to him how the child got to us, he just wanted it to get there.

Two days before Paxton turned two I dared myself to take another pregnancy test. My heart raced and I prepared myself for another round of disappointment and a negative sign. But slowly, that negative sign added a line and became a positive. I was in absolute disbelief and all I could do was sit on the toilet crying tears of joy and look at the test to make sure I had read it right.

I absolutely know and understand the pain, frustration, disappointment, and grief in the hearts of so many who try and try again only to be told 'no'. I have felt the loss and heartbreak of receiving a diagnosis that leaves you with the uncertainty that you will ever carry a child of your own. I have experienced the twinges of jealousy and simultaneous joy when a friend announces they are pregnant. You are not alone in this.

Because I have felt this pain and know it first-hand, I believe I have an even greater appreciation for the life growing inside of me. I realize that bringing another child into this world is an honor and privilege, a merciful gift granted to my family that I hope to God I never take for granted.

So until we see you in May sweet babe, know that you are LOVED. You are WANTED. And there will ALWAYS be room in my heart for you.