Part of the problem is that I'm 37. If I am going to have another baby, I really don't want to wait too long. And, it will just kill me if four or five years down the road, dh says "yeah - another baby would be cool".
When we got together, I was just coming out of a really horrible first marriage. My ex and I had been together since I was 16, and it took me a long time to admit that he'd become really emotionally abusive. I'd been living under unbelievable stress for several years, and...well, to sum it up, when dh met me, I'd put on 30 pounds in about 16 months, and had been sick for almost a year...strepthroat, bronchitis, ear infections, constant fevers - you name it. My body just couldn't deal with the stress. That's probably what caused my three miscarriages, as well.
I'd wanted four kids since I was 18, and had almost given up when I met dh. I was pretty sure I couldn't even have kids, anymore. I thought maybe something had gone wrong with my primary section and really screwed up my uterus.
So...I met dh.
From my perspective: I finally got pregnant, and managed to keep a baby. I was 34 when Emma was born...older than I'd planned, but it seemed as though everything had pulled together just in time to let me have my four kids, after all...the universe had finally dealt me good cards. I found the love of my life, and he was going to give me my much-wanted babies.
From dh's perspective: I was a sick, tired mess when he moved here. We spent a lot of time out hiking, and he got me back on a bicycle for the first time in 20 years. My health & fitness improved almost daily, and for a while he shouldered more than his share of the load to help me de-stress. Then, I got pregnant...spent about two months at the end moving really slowly and kind of limited in what I could do...then had surgery and was a physical and psychological mess for about two months. We started hiking and stuff again that summer and I was getting back on track. Then, I got pregnant...and it all happened again, only I was more incapacitated at the end of this pregnancy (Evan was big, and I went over 41w). So - he finally found the love of his life - and she keeps rendering herself minimally functional...
That was long, but this is an emotionally complicated mess. And, the fact that this recovery isn't going very well or very quickly isn't helping either of us cope. The incision still hasn't healed, and my stomach hurts, and...well...things just aren't healing up so well.