Different Mind Sets

Every thing I have read, and every mother with multiple children, has told me that every pregnancy is different. For me, this was true not only with symptoms, but with my state of mind.

I was 19 when I got pregnant with Lyla, and under much different circumstances as I'm sure most of you are aware. I was a party girl, coming out of a bad relationship and subsequently making unwise decisions. Little Lyla was created and my partying days were over. Any pregnancy at any age comes with its own difficulties, but mine were especially pronounced. I had no real desire to be with the person who would (biologically) father my child, and to make matters worse, I would sit at home (over the toilet, mostly), knowing all my friends were still out partying, carefree, without me. Being pregnant at a young age was tough - none of my friends had babies, and I didn't have anyone to relate to with my morning sickness and non-stop growing uterus. And, as I'm sure all young parents have faced, you have to tell you parents. I was so nervous, I seriously considered e-mailing my dad to tell him, because I didn't want to see the look of disappointment on his face. Then there was the concern of everyone else finding out: what will they say about me? what will they think? Of course, all these worries were put to rest as my pregnancy progressed and Lyla came into the world. Suddenly I was the center of attention. Everyone wanted to be a part of this little miracle, and they were; I must have had at least a few visitors a day for Lyla's first few months of life. And then, the newness wore off, and I was left a nearly single mom with Lyla's father working such long hours and my friends and family returning to their everyday lives.

But this time was so wonderfully different. Not only was it a planned pregnancy, but planned with my husband (man, that feels good to say). When I was pregnant with Lyla, I noticed that people would often glance down at my ring finger out of curiosity. "Hmmm...someone didn't plan this" I always assumed they were thinking. But this time, I didn't want to crawl under a rock for 9 months once those little pink lines showed up on that stick; I wanted to tell everyone. This time, I called my dad first. Then sent the not-so-subtle photo message of my pee stick to my close friends, mom and brother. It was a great feeling to get responses like "YAY!!" and "congratulations!!" verses "are you going to keep it?" or "uh-oh".

So although these two pregnancies have been very different, both symptomatically and emotionally - and I will love both my girls the same - I can't help but be thankful of the situation I'm in now, and can appreciate it that much more because of where I had been.