At first we weren’t sure if we were going to have any. And then I was so scared of motherhood I wouldn’t admit we were trying – we were simply not preventing. But then we were not preventing for nearly a year. Just as I began to wonder, I was overcome by an all-consuming exhaustion and emotional instability that was so unlike anything I’d ever before experienced I drove straight to the store for a pregnancy test. We had our Juliette, and everything was so hard: labor was hard, delivery was hard, recovery was hard, breastfeeding was hard, marriage was hard, having a toddler was hard. Unrelentingly hard, though also wonderful, of course.
So then we thought perhaps one was enough, one was just right, one was what we had the emotional, spiritual, and financial resources to raise. I got myself a shiny new diaphragm. Actually, I don’t know if it was shiny; I never actually got it out of the box, if you must know. Word to the wise: just because it took a year of not preventing the first time doesn’t mean you get any sort of grace period the second time.