Not Sure
The ob-gyn who performed the D&E for Loila had advised me to wait three months before trying again. At that point, he said, my odds of miscarriage would be the same as for any other expectant mother: one in six. The possibility of trying for another baby began to weigh heavily on my mind. I was 39: it felt like time was running out. And then, there was this devouring emptiness inside of me - “a hole in my gut the size of Manhattan,” I described it. I believed that having a healthy baby would help to fill that hole. Perhaps it would have.
I recorded in my journal the events of a drive Andrew and I took to the Cardston temple at the end of January:
We began talking about the possibility of having another baby. I was telling him about my feelings - about the risks, that I was coming to a point of being able to look at it positively: remembering my six healthy pregnancies, realizing the good chance that things would turn out well. Talking about my fears, the difficulty of living with them through another pregnancy. Andrew told me gently, without pressure, how he’d love to have another child.
And then, as we talked, I found that it suddenly hurt me to look at the brightness and beauty of the sunrise and stared [to the west] where things were still grey and undefined. I cried a little then, and a lot in my tiny cubicle in the temple dressing room.
Talking about it made me more confused. Earlier this week, I was more sure that I wanted to try again - soon. Yesterday I thought about the fears and physical difficulties of another pregnancy and admitted, yes, I could handle them. I could even survive another loss, if it came to that. But I’m not sure I want to.
We were, of course, praying for guidance about our decision. But after the turmoil of November, even something as elemental and sustaining as prayer left me ambivalent:
I asked the Lord, is there another spirit waiting to come to our home? I felt peace, but I’m not sure I felt an answer. I’m not sure we’ll get a clear answer on this one. I’m not sure it would be wisdom in the Lord to . . . give me specific promises right now. Because - well, I’m not sure I want Him to ask me trust Him like that, quite yet.
I did get an answer, though. A few days later, I wrote:
I felt a strong witness from the Spirit, that we should go ahead. Not, I guess, a promise that all would go well, but a confirmation that this was a good and wise decision, that trying for another baby would please the Lord and strengthen us.
We decided to try again, as soon as we passed the three-month mark.
