Each pregnancy carries its own worries, any mother will agree that from the moment you see those two little lines you start to worry.
Will I carry to term?
How will I cope?
What if I don't love my baby?
Hormones start rushing through your body and you can't help but worry.
I was stressed from day one with my first pregnancy but in the end everything was fine. I carried her to term and had an ideal birth experience. 15 hours from start to finish with pain building gradually. I spent half of the day in the bath! It lulled me into a false sense of security though- I thought all pregnancies would be the same.
They're not.
I lost a baby. My second pregnancy did not go well and I miscarried at seven weeks. I know that is not as traumatic as some pregnancies that make it further down the line but each loss breaks you. They leave you feeling completely helpless and make you doubt yourself as a mother. You fail at the most important job in the world. Nothing anyone can say can make it better.
I remember sitting on the sofa, completely numb from it all. The hospital had sent me home, promising to ring with the final results as soon as possible. But I already knew. You just know don't you? I don't think I cried, not properly. My brain took over and told me it was natures way, better now than later on. But inside I was crying, screaming. Why me? Why now? Why my precious baby?
Only time can heal.
After a year I fell pregnant again and after nine very long months I gave birth to my rainbow baby. My little miracle baby that restored my faith in myself. But for those nine months I lived in a constant state of fear. Fear that it would happen again, that I would lose another baby. She was 8 days late too, kept me waiting too long. I needed her to be out, to be safe in my arms where I could see her and protect her. If I could just get her out.
She came out in style- a three hour labour and there she was. Obviously desperate to meet her mummy too. She was born with the cord around her neck and was unconscious when she came out. For those few minutes I was panic stricken, after all the waiting it was all going to end.
Not this time though.
Not this baby.
She was here to stay.
So now my babies aren't babies anymore and my mind has started to wander and dream of another one. I would love to grow the family, have another little baby to nurture and adore. The joy that comes from a child is second to none isn't it? It is completely immeasurable.
But what if I fail? What if my body lets me down. What if I can't do it again? That fear is real and it is an internal battle I am facing now. Can I put myself through it again? Can I risk feeling that pain again?
I just don't know.
Katy writes over at What Katy Said - her online journal of British family life.