When my husband and I talked about getting married and having children, I said I wanted four children.
My husband already had three children in their teens when we meet.
While he agreed to that number, I do have to admit he did laugh and say,
“Well, you’ll probably change your mind after the first one. Kids are a lot of work.”
As luck would have it. We didn’t have a first one.
We had a first two.
They came after failed infertility treatments and trips to the marriage counselor—again.
They came after 3 1/2 months bed rest.
They were healthy and a miracle and I was so happy.
We both were.
I promptly told him 7 days after bringing them home how happy I was and that I wanted another.
He looked at me momentarily shocked into silence.
I can still see his face as he stood outside the bathroom door.
“No one thought you’d want another child after 3 1/2 months of bed rest.”
I smiled and said, “They were wrong. I’d do it all again for the same outcome.”
2 years later we had Pumpkin.
Now we had two boys and a girl.
Big Daddy felt we were done.
“I couldn’t not let you have your girl and now you do. We are done now.”
I tried to be done.
I said, “I know we are done” even though I didn’t feel it in my heart.
I said, “I know she is our last baby” even though it broke my heart to consider it.
I gave away baby clothes as she outgrew them to make myself believe the words.
Finally I stopped. It hurt too much and I started secretly saving her clothes again.
After Pumpkin turned two I started feeling a panic in my chest and the unmistakable feeling that someone was missing from our family. Needless to say my husband didn’t feel that way at all. For several months I kept silent. For several months I begged. This was not a happy time in our household.
It would take almost 4 more months to get him on board.
He said it was because Pumpkin so obviously needed another sibling that wasn’t a twin.
I had my own reasons and really, what did I care? We were going to have another baby!
We got pregnant and then I lost the baby. On his birthday no less. It was horrible.
We got pregnant again and for a time it looked as if we would have twins again. I was elated.
As it turns out one twin stopped developing as sometimes happens early on.
There was no miscarriage. My body simply absorbed it according to the OB.
Now in my mind I had lost two children.
Although one was more traumatic than the other.
Both physically and emotionally.
I wanted to mourn the baby we weren’t going to have.
But my husband wouldn’t hear of it.
We are pregnant. We have a healthy baby. We just saw the heart beat.
And I am happy.
Happier than I ever thought I could be in this life.
Happier than I know I deserve to be.
So why do I still wish for another?
Why can’t I be like the mothers who say, “I am so done having children”?
Does the desire for more children ever leave you?
It is not that my children are not enough.
But rather that they are so much it makes me desire more of them.
Our family is everything to us.
My husband is now an amazing husband and father.
He has turned into a father who regularly gives up golf addiction to be with us.
Who is this man?
What happened to the man I married almost 10 years ago?
I thought I was in love with that man, but truth be told I love the one I have now even more.
God has changed our lives.. Blessed our household.
Am I wrong to want a quiver full?
How do you know when you are full?
If children are a blessing from God, is it wrong to want more blessings or does it make you ungrateful for the blessings that you do have?
Does the desire for more children ever go away?