‘Wait, I’m not ready for this yet’ was the thought that went through my head as I was falling asleep last night. I mean I’ve been ready in a hypothetical, near-future kind of way, but not in an it’s-already-April-and-actually-time-to-break-out-the-candles kind of way.

It all started with the month of dental hell, last June. A hurty tooth prompted me to finally schedule my next cleaning/checkup. They offered me an appointment that same week, suggesting it be best to get it out of the way without too much anticipation, but I wasn’t falling for that trick and scheduled a week out. The next day the worsening pain convinced me to call back and claim that Friday appointment after all. I suffered trough the next couple days and the word ‘excruciating’ comes to mind as I learned that Tylenol can’t be taken around the clock and soon stopped even lasting the whole six hours between doses.

After my cleaning, the dentist came to talk about my tooth and told me they were sending me to a specialist downtown. I drove downtown, tooth still throbbing, where the specialist explained that I had a “missed canal” in my previous root canal (and also learned that it’s possible to have had a root canal and not know it, but since I have to have my dental-work done sedated, who knows what’s gone on in my mouth.) I was sent off with prescriptions for Vicodin, antibiotics, and an appointment in a week for the root canal redo.

A week later I survived my re-canal and found out it was only part one. Two weeks later I had to go back to have it finished.

In the meantime the antibiotics gave me a yeast infection which I home-treated but thankfully no UC flare which had been my big fear. (Antibiotics are known for causing flares.)

Oh and to top it off the specialist place lost my x-rays in a computer crash and called me to have them retaken, on my birthday.

So when my period was late, I can’t say I was particularly surprised. In fact when it ultimately skipped a month, I looked back at the calendar and thought ‘no wonder!’, my ovaries just said “nope, not this time.”

But in that time in between, as unlikely as it was, we both realized we were a little excited by the idea that I could be pregnant. And that led to The Conversation, a “how crazy would it be…?”

We’ve always intended two so that isn’t really news itself. However I had a few requirements in mind before trying for Second Baby:

1. First Baby (AKA Cameron) had to be at least a year old, so my body wouldn’t have to fully support two dependents (pregnancy and nutritive nursing).

2. Cameron had to be sleeping decently well, so that I could even entertain the thought of being pregnant again.

3. We had to be financially stable enough to support another child.

And that’s where things get tricky…

Andrew insisted that it was in fact not crazy but my requirement meant getting by with more than the barest of minimums. I’ve feared adding more stress to our lives while subtracting luxuries and imagine being trapped at home with a new baby while not being able to justify so much as a trip to Starbucks, let alone an occasional babysitter, and the foot massages that are not quite a *necessity* during pregnancy, but pretty close to it.
Then I went back to work.

To make a long story short, I’m working part time, in office, for my old job that I have failed to quit multiple times. The amazing Shannon (and this is such a good deal for me that I can’t talk about it without using the prefix ‘amazing’) is watching Cameron for free/in exchange for baked goods. Not paying for childcare has made the difference between working for the sake of getting out of the house and being an adult, and actually contributing to the family financially (while still getting out of the house and being an adult.) My credit card is going slowly down instead of slowly up while Andrew focuses on getting his own paid off. I’m also putting extra money aside as my pregnancy fund, to be able to afford those massages and babysitter time.

When nosy people ask, “So when are you having a second?” I always wonder if they realizing what they’re actually asking. I’d always respond with this half laugh that’s trying to project, “Are you crazy? I can barely handle the one!” with a hint of ‘Well actually we’ve been discussing the proper timeline as to when to resume having unprotected, procreative sex but the answer to that is still none of your business.’

So consider this my announcement of resuming unprotected, procreative sex. You know, if the candles didn’t give it away.