Of course, despite this rant, I cannot stop the incessent drone pounding through my head. Will we tempt fate and try another pregnancy? Ultimately, I think the answer will be yes, but it is going to take some time before I can even contemplate that.
However, when I said "I don't know if we will try to have another" to my massage therapist yesterday, she looked at me as if I had sprouted another head. "oh," she said in slightly incredulous tone of voice.
"How come? Because of what happened to C.?"
OK, seriously, isn't that a good enough reason? Having one baby die was bad enough. Then considering that I am not infertile, but also not particularly fertile. Take into consideration polyhydramnios and BB's heart arrhythmia equalling a high-risk delivery. Yep. A little gun-shy on the repeat.
But why did I feel the need to justify myself to her. And why do I always feel like I have to justify the number of children I have to other people?