I'm being utterly ridiculous, but I'm in bits.
I POAS tonight and BFP. Haven't told DH yet, coming in from a business trip late tonight. DS is 18 months and took one single risk last month DTD (which to be honest we hadn't much, yet), and here we are.
We both wanted another and we planned to start trying in the new year thinking it might take a wee while. Plumping for a 2.5-3 year gap. Just lost my Grannie, this would be so lovely for everyone. But...
I feel so so so ashamed of myself, but all I can think is it's too soon for DS. I think I knew I'd feel a bit wobbly about another because I'm deranged with love for him, I don't want our time together to end, I feel sad about making him grow up, blah blah... but I thought we'd have six more months to start getting my head around it, and getting him fully established in toddlerhood. I thought it'd be planned and all that would be tempered with excitement and now I don't think I feel anything but sadness for upending his little world. Which is ridiculous because a sibling will probably make it.
Worse still he was a long awaited baby and I feel so gutted and hideously guilty and ungrateful that I'm not singing and dancing about this second poor little babe, instead crying over it's FRER.
I'm so ashamed of myself for being so ungrateful.
Is this is any way a normal experience? I feel mentally totally unprepared. Or am I loopy from the rest of 2020 anxiety?
Sorry again. Three years ago my posts were all agony waiting for a BFP. I can't bear the irony, or how vile this makes me feel.