Mother (v) Defined

My mind has been filled with all kinds of thoughts as we roll into February. Currently on the To-Do list are:

• make and freeze food
• get an infant car seat
• get a glider chair
• pack the hospital bag
• set up the co-sleeper
• wash and organize Baby Girl Martin's stuff
• wash the Baby Bjorn that Kai chewed on
• clean the play pan downstairs and organize the shelves around it
• organize Kai's library
• sterilize breast pump
  
• get new bottles
  

Other than this list of practical things we have to do, I've also been thinking about what this pregnancy, this C-section, and this baby mean to me and to our family.

I can't help but think about Dr. Liu. Our lives might be completely different if it weren't for him. During my second trimester, I thought about going back to Taiwan to have this baby several times. I miss the trust, familiarity, and comfort I had with my doctor and the whole maternity ward at Tri-Service Hospital. My current obstetrician, Dr. Sanders, has a very similar demeanor with Dr. Liu (that's why we chose him). He's very nice and I'm sure he's very capable. However, to Dr. Sanders, all what I've gone through is merely a part of my medical history. Unlike with Dr. Liu, it's a part of our personal history. To Dr. Sanders, this is just another baby, but she's more than "just another baby."

I know it's silly to dwell over the past. I guess I am sentimental by nature, and the pregnancy hormones just makes it worse.

Another thing that has been lingering in the back of my head is the fact that this is my very last pregnancy. After consulting with Dr. Ehlan at BC Cancer Agency, we decided to have a salpingectomy after the C-section. We're keeping my left ovary because of the findings of the most current research on ovarian cancer. Oh, and another minor consideration is that we don't think postpartum is a good time to also be menopausal (can you imagine?! *shivers*)

While it seems like the logical thing to do, Bill and I didn't come to this decision without talking about how and what we feel about not being able to have another child of our own first. It turned out we're both fine with two kids. In fact, we've been jokingly asking each other why in the world did we decide to have a second one when just dealing with one child is already a lot of work. I was worried about how Bill might feel about my inability to have more children because he once told me he wanted three children. I wanted to make sure he's really okay with 2, that he's not gonna change his mind one day and suddenly tell me that he wants another kid of our own. We agreed if we ever want to have another kid later on and we can afford it, we'll adopt because there are kids in this world that need a loving family.

So then I started examining how I truly feel about not ever being able to get pregnant again and, as I dug deeper, I realized the only reason I'm seriously thinking about this is because I've heard other women talked how they longed for another baby or how they simply missed being pregnant. Will I long to have another baby or miss being pregnant? Perhaps. But will this irrational, entirely emotional longing make me regret having my tube removed so we might be able to prevent ovarian cancer from recurring? Not a chance!

I've always wanted only 2 kids, and I'm blessed with two wonderful miracle babies. I have no regrets. A part of what I consider as being a woman and a wife has been fulfilled. From now on, I can focus on being a MOTHER, no longer narrowly defined in the child-rearing sense, and help my miracle children to be all that they can and want to be.