A little Google is a dangerous thing
Our son is not quite one year old, yet the news of my sister-in-law's pregnancy has hit both Mr. W and I hard.
He finally admitted today that if we hadn't had the miscarriages and the bedrest and the premature birth he would want another child. Except that we did have all of those things. And he fears that while we got extremely lucky one time, it isn't likely that we would walk out of the NICU as unscathed a second time. His believes that the odds are stacked against you to have an easy time again.
And it really sucks that I can't just enjoy my soon-to-be one year old son without wondering if it's the only time that I will experience this type of love. If it is, it's more than enough. But I'm not over this feeling of being cheated. Not by a long shot. It's why I've just spent the last 10 minutes googling unicornuate uterus and chances of preterm labor and various other combinations of key factors. (Remarkably, when you google it all together? You find NOTHING of much use)