April 22, 2015 03:00 PM

Sophie B. Hawkins will soon be a mama of two.

The singer/songwriter, who is best known for her hits “Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover” and “As I Lay Me Down,” has also starred in Room 105 and on Community.

Already mom to 6-year-old son Dashiell, Hawkins, 50, is pregnant with her second child — a girl! — after being implanted with her own frozen embryo.

You can find her on InstagramFacebook and Twitter @therealsophieb.

Courtesy Sophie B. Hawkins

“I wasn’t free until I had my children,” I thought, standing on a golf course covered in snow.

On the border of the sloping field stood naked trees, each one unique and captivating. Bleak winter takes their leaves and, if it didn’t, we’d never see what they are really made of. I imagined people I know without their leaves: What are they made of? What do they really look like near the end of a long, cold time?

This winter has been a trial for me, physically and emotionally. Pregnancy is uncomfortable and draining, and the end isn’t in sight until it becomes unbearable. No, my doctor won’t let me look forward to a scheduled C-section.

“You’re not high-risk,” she says.

“But I’m 50!” I remind her.

“You’re healthy and your baby is healthy,” she retorts.

Well, this pregnancy has really stripped my leaves, and I’m starting to know what I’m made of.

Courtesy Sophie B. Hawkins

During the first three months, there were moments when I thought I made a mistake, when the positive notions about having a second child couldn’t overpower the nausea and dread that I was ruining my son’s life and my own. I woke up depressed and befuddled by my bizarre life planning. I recounted the warnings of those from whom I had sought advice:

“One child is precious.”

“Now that you’re unburdened, why would you have a second child?”

“How could you take attention away from your son?”

“You’re robbing Peter to pay Paul.”

Even my mother thought I was a cockeyed optimist. “I’ll support you emotionally, but I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she cautioned.

A year ago, as I was coming up the dimly lit stairs of our dingy, overpriced apartment building, I witnessed an old man making the arduous journey down. Alone and fragile, he had the air of an abandoned man. When I entered my apartment and closed the heavy door, I cried because I wouldn’t be alive to take care of Dashiell when he’s old. That my son might ever be so alone as to appear forgotten was too much to bear.

“I have to have another child. I have to bring someone into this world that will be here for Dashiell.”

This and other visions, including the solidarity I’m rebuilding with my siblings, kept bringing up the question of when would I have another child, not why. I thought of adopting; I called a few agencies — yet I had the embryos of my egg, plus my son’s sperm donor in storage, so it seemed worth the effort of being pregnant to bring a person into our lives in a similar way that my son was brought into mine … And yet I dragged my feet.

Courtesy Sophie B. Hawkins

I wasn’t ready to let go of being the mother of one, knowing that two would make us a stronger family. A mother at Dashiell’s school confided that she felt she was “cheating” on her daughter when she had her son five years later; she felt she was having an illicit relationship.

“Will I still be your favorite son when Bubble Gum is born?” my son asked tonight. He is the greatest love I’ve known, and in recent years, the only love I’ve truly wanted to explore.

After the breakup with my partner of 17 years, I haven’t wanted to share my heart with anyone but my son, and it has been positively wonderful. So, is that where freedom awaits, in an opening heart? I have a feeling.

I could have chosen a suitor, a grown-up love affair that may turn into the new parent of my son and then have a baby together, or perhaps I would’ve fallen in love with someone who has children, built-in siblings.

But from experience, I know that most falling in love ends with a thud after two years, and then my son would have to go through another traumatic loss, and he’d think I was insane and lose trust in me. While the rewards of a new adult relationship can be totally fulfilling, the rewards of having a new baby are so much greater. And so is the commitment, which is why it’s so scary.

Marriage is a walk in the park compared to being a single mother or father. I’ll take that walk later.

For now, I’m seven months pregnant and I’ve started to feel I’m carrying a person, not just my son’s sister. The first few presents of tiny baby clothes have been arriving and I’m stunned at how small this person will start out, and I’ve wondered where she will sleep.

The buds are appearing on the trees outside, yet I feel I’m going to be naked, leafless, for many months to come. My true friends, and my son, see me with kind eyes. I feel it. So that’s the freedom my children have given me. To be naked in the world with an open heart.

Courtesy Sophie B. Hawkins

— Sophie B. Hawkins

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