Uterus longings, heart songs, and rational brain

My uterus has been calling to me lately. Every now and then when I least expect it, it will gently, quietly start to whisper to my heart. It reminds me what it felt like to have a living being growing and thriving inside me. It reminds me what it felt like to feel that lump of something not myself just inches below the surface. Sometimes when I bend a certain way, my body is tricked by my uterus and thinks it can once again feel that hardness of a baby there. Sometimes that phantom feeling is so real I touch my belly, knowing it's my own yet expecting to feel that space shared with someone else. My uterus has been talking to me about birth too, reminding what an amazing experience that was. How quickly my body knew just what to do, how fast the labor and delivery passed, so fast that I cannot remember parts of it; before I knew it the baby was in my arms, my uterus empty of life. My uterus has been speaking to me in soft voices, talking to me about what my next birth could be like. I could be in a warm bath of water, move in any position that my body calls out to be in, push my child out exactly at the right moment, and then bring my hands and arms down and pull that life out and up onto myself. My next birth could be so much more peaceful, serene, and spiritual than the last one. My uterus and body have been murmuring to me about how I continued to sustain the life of my daughter, long after she was born. How my body made milk for my daughter, how she drank it readily, how we used to lay together in the quiet moments, her at my breast, me staring down at her face. My body is asking and longing for those moments again.

And yet, my brain has been speaking even more loudly. It has been reminding me how difficult it all was. How I used to cry for weeks and months after Anne had arrived, struggling with her existence. My brain is scared and wonders what will happen the next time around. Will it be just as bad, if not worse? Will my emotions and hormones betray me in a time that is supposed to be happy? Or will my heart overtake my hormones and cause me to love my second child as much as my first child because I know what it is like?

I am not sure and so I remain anxious and longing yet cautious and held back. My brain has won this battle. My uterus will have to continue to wait for life. It is not to be right now. My body will have to wait longer than 9 months to push out life. My breasts will have to delay making their nourishment a little longer. I know that the time for a second child will come when we are ready. We will make that choice more with our heads now that we know what it is like for me. We will remain cautious and waiting, knowing that my emotions need time to prepare for such a change least I miss it all by being absorbed in postpartum sadness and tears. I know that my battle for my emotions is one that is shared by women all across the world, it spans time and culture. And when the time is finally right, when I can no longer withstand the urges of my body and heart, then will we bring forth life again. But until then I will listen to the whisperings, placing my hand on my empty belly, wondering why I am expecting it to be full.