Confession. I wrote this post a year ago. But it was too raw to post. I came across it this morning and I really needed to read it again. Because what was so clear to me had become a little foggy in the last few weeks, and I needed these reminders. I’m ready to share this now, unedited and exactly as I wrote it a year ago…
It was Christmas time, and my husband and I were on our annual shopping for the kids and dinner date. We were at a pizza shop, with weary feet and few words. It had been an exhausting day.
Sometime before the pizza arrived, Eric abruptly said, “So, how does one go about adopting a kid anyway?”
My stomach lurched.
“Don’t get all excited, I’m just asking,” He warned me when he saw my eyes light up.
I started fidgeting with a napkin, suddenly feeling like I was on a date. I sipped my root beer and calmly had a conversation with my husband about adoption. My stomach was quite literally shaking inside.
I had wanted to adopt since I can remember, and Eric had always been firmly set that it wasn’t for him, so him starting this conversation was a huge deal. He kept reminding me, the whole time, not to get excited. That he was just curious.
As if I could help myself.
I asked him what had sparked his curiosity.
What he told me made something inside of me break a little. We had been at our friend’s house, talking about big families. I mentioned that I was so happy I’d been able to even have two kids, but part of me was always sad I didn’t have a big houseful of kids. At some point, adoption was mentioned and I said I’d always wanted to but Eric was done having kids.
At that moment, he decided to broach the topic and let me know he was willing. He didn’t want me to be sad. That was it.
I selfishly ignored these facts and started researching adoption, foreign and domestic. We already knew all about step-parent adoption, because we had been researching that for years and had the paperwork on standby. Eric has always planned to adopt my oldest girl as soon as he could. (update: he did!) But this was different. This would be adding a child to our family of four. It would be raising another child. It would be starting over.
As I researched, I began pushing for a sibling group. I didn’t want to adopt one child, who would end up being practically an only child in a few years. I wanted to adopt two or three. My husband thought I was crazy.
He reminded me that our youngest was ten then and it would be like starting over, and I reminded him that he still has 20 years of working left, so what did that matter?
He reminded me that I’m not as young as I used to be and I reminded him of all the moms I know that are my age and have toddlers.
He reminded me that we are living paycheck to paycheck and I reminded him that there are children living in absolute poverty, and besides… God provides.
He reminded me that I was finally at the point where I could write and I reminded him that while writing was great, raising kids was miraculous.
For three weeks, I was in a total fog. I was almost incapable of having a conversation. I only told my mom and one close friend that we were even discussing it. I was hopeful, and excited, and strangely sad. I became kind of depressed.
I mean, I had a hysterectomy five years ago and it took a really long time to accept that I couldn’t have any more kids.
Even when the doctor told me they had to take my uterus, I let myself dream that somehow I would conceive before the surgery happened. I dreamed about a miracle baby. A little sibling for my girls. I was earnestly praying that the morning of my surgery, they would find I was pregnant and be unable to do the surgery.
After the surgery, I spent two weeks arguing with myself and finally sort of accepting that I was done having children. Done being pregnant. Done giving birth. I sort of accepted it. But really, I lied to myself for the next few years, telling myself that I still had an ovary and would be able to have more kids via a surrogate if we struck gold or something.
Then, last year, I was in need of another surgery. During this one, they had to take my one remaining ovary. I will never forget the doctor nonchalantly mentioning it when I was still groggy from the anesthesia.
There were no lies I could tell myself now. There was no dreaming.
All over again, I had to grieve and accept that God did not make me someone that could have many children.
I had finally accepted that our family was complete. It took the better part of a year.
Then, my husband bought up adoption one night in a pizza place. And I had to feel all those feelings again. In the hope and excitement, there was a sense of dread. I’d heard the stories, read the blogs. I knew of the heartbreak along the journey to adopt and I wasn’t really sure I was up for that.
But snuggling a baby? Answering a toddler’s thousand questions? Getting to homeschool a kindergartner again? When I thought of these things, I would have agreed, on the spot, to go through any kind of heartbreak if at the end of the journey, I got to be a mom for just a little longer.
And there it was.
My oldest was graduating that year. My youngest was much more independent. Was this just a case of me not being ready to move on in the next stage of our life?
I am unbelievably thankful for my two daughters. I know that when my friend with a lot of children expresses her sadness at not being able to have more, I cringe inside. And I know that someone who was unable to have any children might be cringing inside right now, reading this. Isn’t two enough?
Yes and yes. A million times yes.
As weird as this may sound, it is because my daughters are so lovely that I wanted more children. I really wanted them to grow up with many siblings. A loud, messy, crazy house with kids everywhere.
And yet.
Hasn’t our house been loud? Filled with love? Messy? Oh yes.
Aren’t I so incredibly close with each of them, able to form a relationship that I might not be able to if there were five of them?
There are so many things to hold onto and be thankful for when a sad thought dares to make it’s way into my mind.
God, I know what you have given me. I am utterly thankful for these lives you have let me care for.
I feel selfish and stupid for those sad thoughts. Crazy for the dark days when I couldn’t stop crying.
I feel absolutely ridiculous for the weeks spent in a weird, adoption-obsessed fog. I knew all along that this wasn’t to be. Deep down, I knew my husband didn’t really want to raise any more kids, but that he would move heaven and earth to give me anything I want. His heart’s desire is for me to be happy.
I knew that bringing a child or children into our family when one parent wasn’t really excited about it would be a colossal mistake.
But I let myself whisper dreams and plan timelines and wonder what our kids-to-be were doing right that second. I let myself imagine that houseful of kids, and those family gatherings when I am gray, surrounded by many children and knowing that whatever happens to us, my kids have each other.
I let myself dream again.
Which means I had to let myself grieve again.
Do I sound like a crazy person yet? Because for the past five years, I have secretly felt like one.
In the end, we decided to not pursue adoption. We decided to leave it up to God to impress upon our hearts if it is to be. To pretty much bring it to our front step and kind of throw it in our faces and change our hearts if it is to be. Kind of like He did with homeschooling 🙂
I decided that I didn’t actually want to start over. Man, it was hard to type that sentence. I’m pretty sure it’s mostly true.
I knew that, even if we started the process now, my youngest would be at least fourteen, and my oldest twenty one by the time we were able to add to our family. No matter what we do, their childhood is already written. And it didn’t include a big family.
So what?
I finally saw that, while I love my girls beyond belief and I tell myself they’re missing out on a big family, God loves them even more. And if He thought they needed a big family, He would have provided one.
This is when I have to admit that I have prayed and tried to bend God’s will to my own in this area of my life. I have begged, and pleaded, and expressed such a sad attitude about it all that my husband was even willing to try to fix it for me.
I believe God knows better.
I believe miracles do happen and I have two under my roof this very second, asleep in their cozy beds while their crazy mom writes and writes, and figures out how she is feeling and how she has tried to manipulate God.
I believe that God has changed my heart’s desire to match His will in this. I believe His answer is no, and I am okay with that. Not the kind of okay where I smile all day and cry at night. Really, truly okay. In fact, I’m better than okay.
I’m happy.
I also believe that just as we get settled in life, God mixes things up. So who knows?
Note from today, 2015: Please know that it was hard for me to share this and that someday I really want to write a list about what NOT to say to someone experiencing infertility. So please withhold judgement and don’t give me anything to add to that list 🙂 I would love to hear from you, and I’m okay if you disagree. But let’s all be gentle.
Claire says
I relate to much of your experience. We did adopt (a newborn, after years of infertility and miscarriages), and it has been the biggest blessing of my life. And it breaks my heart that my son is an only child and that the baby days are behind me. Like you, I spend way too much time grieving this when I should be rejoicing instead that I was given such a blessing, and trusting that God knows what he’s doing when it comes to the size of my family.
Homegrown Mom says
Rejoice indeed 🙂 We all need that reminder.
Mamala says
Wow. If He had thought that they needed a big family–He would have provided one.
Beautiful 2 by 4 upside my head.
I must must remember this.
Homegrown Mom says
Me too 🙂
JCo says
Wow. This certainly pulled on my heart strings,as a young wife that is struggling with infertility for 3 long years, I really understand your emotion about this because it is SO difficult to really seek Gods will on such tender matters. I want to say more but I’d have to nearly write out a story ,so let me just say thank you for stepping out and posting this.I know it wasn’t easy,but it has gave me comfort along my journey.
Homegrown Mom says
I’m glad it gave you some comfort, and I am so sorry for your struggle. I prayed for you right now, JCo and I’ll continue to do so.
Juanita says
Huge hugs. I definitely relate to everything, the infertility, the two daughter miracles (mine are 13 and 7), the surgery, the grief before and after which I had truly not planned on . I still am not positive I over the grief. I try and I believe but there are times I see a baby boy and I begin to think. So many thought so many emotions. It’s been two years since my surgery and it’s hard, it’s great, it’s hard to explain. Thank you for always sharing. All too often I relate all too well. God bless you and huge hugs!!
Homegrown Mom says
Hugs back to you, Juanita!
KarenKnox says
Right there with you. I had 2, wanted 4. Now, I have 4, I want 6. If I had 6, I’d want 8. The desire to be a mother and experience those joys never goes away. When I had my first baby, someone I know who was 57 at the time, said “I wish I had a baby.” I thought she was nuts but now I understand that feeling a little bit more.
Homegrown Mom says
You’re so right. If being a mom sucked, we’d all stop at one 🙂
Sara says
Yep, two here , too. I think for me it was that I never saw large families until I began homeschooling. Suddenly, I realized that I had been conditioned to want only two children, without ever thinking about the options, much less from a faith stand point. My husband and I now often wish we had started our family sooner, not been as career driven, and felt free to have more children. But, we are very grateful for our smaller family, and now with two widowed, aging parents who require a lot of our attention, we have to acknowledge that God knew what he was doing. 🙂
I love your last sentence!
Homegrown Mom says
Yes, it is a totally different world when you’re homeschooling. We know a lot of really big families and it always seems so fun!
sabrina says
Thank you for being so real in this post! I appreciate you laying your heart out. It’s cathartic isn’t it?
I always wanted 4 children. My husband wanted 7, sorta jokiingly. We had 3 single children in 25 months. I got pregnant again with my fourth and miscarried at 12 weeks. Then lost another baby at 9 weeks. I went through a difficult time- depression, etc. I prayed that the Lord would take away this desire and help me be content with my beautiful three children that He has blessed me with. It has been just over 2 years since my last miscarriage and I am finally feeling at peace with knowing that we’ll only have 3. I know 2 are waiting with open arms up in heaven. My 6, 5 and 4 year old talk about them all the time. Thanks again for sharing your story. 🙂
Homegrown Mom says
I’m so sorry for your losses, Sabrina. That is heartbreaking. I am glad you’re feeling at peace. That is such a gift!
Lindsay says
Thank you for this. Though I have had my tubes tied, I really wanted to trust God with our family size. After 4 c/s, my doctor was pressuring me to be done and do the ligation during the 4th. I trusted her and agreed, though my heart was telling me to wait. Turns out, she was retiring and I really didn’t need to tie them for my health, my insides were doing just fine. I’m still grieving that my family is ‘done’ and the guilt that it’s my fault. But I feel slightly crazy because I have 4 beautiful, healthy, amazing children. I love them and they are enough, absolutely. But I would love to give them more siblings. Especially when my oldest asks why I can have 20 like that lady on TV. I’m gradually finding joy in having my last baby, in moving to the next phase, but it’s so hard to let go!
Thais says
I can relate to so much you’ve written here! !!!
tara says
Beautiful! I just came across your site tonight. Just what I have been experiencing in my heart. We do have 3 beautiful boys and I have a stepson who I have known and been a mom to since he was one. I so long for more, but I also know it isn’t what my husband wants, and so just before I was saved I agreed to his vasectomy. Now that we homeschool and I know God, I know I would’ve not wanted to have my husband do that. I know for sure though that it is officially In God’s hands now. Sometimes I scared to have more anyway….id want it to he from God since I’m driven by the life I imagine in my head. I love one lady commented that she found out their parents needed help, and God knew that. It is true. We brought my stepson in after years of trying to get him. He is almost grown now, but I have a bed for him, and God knows what we need. So I stopped telling my husband all the time what I wanted and told him I’m gonna stop and move on and give it to God.
Bless you dear for your honesty.
Beth Cranford says
I can’t believe I just found your blog today! Being a faith blogger myself, I’m surprised I hadn’t discovered it before now. A friend shared your post about doing things for your kids that they can do for themselves and I absolutely loved it and agreed whole heartedly!
And this post. This post reflects my heart in so many ways. For 7 years we had no baby and weren’t hopeful that we ever would. Then along came a sweet baby girl. She was an only child for 9.5 years and we had all but given up hope for another. Like you, I desperately sought a way to give her a sibling (or three or four.) We pursued adoption, we went though foster care training, and then a son came to us by birth.
And now, I still struggle with the fact that we are such a small family, and that my kids are so far apart in age. We homeschool so I’m constantly around very large families and sometimes it can make me feel “less than” and jealous that my kids are missing out on the large family dynamic.
But I’ve come to realize that like you said, God knows what they need. If they needed more siblings He would have sent them. Just like other things I think my kids need. Things I try to manipulate for them. My manipulations never produce what I want because God doesn’t want me fixing my kids’ lives. He wants me to let Him give them what they need.
And for me? My two pregnancies could have killed me. My first was born with an APGAR score of 1. My second was hospitalized at 12 days old. I’m 47. I’m done. I can even see a stranger’s baby now and not feel a deep aching in my heart. I believe God has helped soften the desire in my heart and given me a satisfaction in having “just two” that I couldn’t have found on my own.
I love that God will change our heart’s desire to match His will. He’s graciously working on me in another area right now and it’s oh-so-sweet to want the things that He wants for me!
Sorry I wrote so much. Guess I should just write a post on this topic once my site redesign is finally done.