When I was growing up, I always wanted to have kids. But, when you're ten or twelve, that just sounds like a fun, cute idea... it's not reality. You see other women having children, and so it seems normal, but it's still not reality in your brain. Playing house sounds fun. Taking care of babies is cute. I mean, you get paid to babysit, after all...
When I became a teenager, I was head first into full-time figure skating, and body image consumed my life. I told people flat out that I didn't want to have children, because I didn't want to lose my body. What a foolish thing to say, but that's kind of where my fifteen-year old brain was.
(In retrospect, and for anyone struggling with body image vs. having children, I can tell you 100% it doesn't matter. Now, I know I am naturally tiny, but still ... my body is not the same as it was when I was fifteen, and a super fit figure skater. But, these two children that have grown inside of me and that I have birthed are worth every bit of it. If you're concerned that you might put on some weight, be a little squishier around the middle, or not be as in shape as an Olympic athlete... seriously, it doesn't matter. Because, really, at the end of my life, I could care less if I stayed skinny with strong abs my whole life. I'd rather have the joy of a husband and children by my side... not everyone saying, "wow, she was so in shape." SIDE SIDE NOTE: this is something I do struggle with on a daily basis, so it's not like I'm just over body image. But, in the end, I know it really doesn't matter in comparison to the joy of these children.)
Then I got married and having children sounded like a good idea, a welcome idea even. Now it was reality, and I had mostly gotten over the idea of gaining some weight and perhaps even getting stretch marks. So, we decided to have kids. I thought maybe three or four or five sounded good. But then it didn't go so easily as I imagined, and we lost two babies, and then I took months upon months upon months of negative pregnancy tests, tossed in the trash with tears upon tears.
With immense joy, we welcomed our first son in December of 2013, after eleven days of waiting post due date. (horrible, I tell you. Horrible.) And I thought I was supermom. One kid was not so bad, and Hudson was just pretty chill. I rarely if ever asked for help. I knew we'd have at least one more kid. At least we would try. After such a hard time having the first, I was thankful we just had him. If we were never able to have more, my heart was bursting with joy just to have this little boy.
So then, we decided to have another kid. And we welcomed a girl in November 2015. And then I told my husband, "I never ever want to have any more kids. This is too hard." I began thinking even having two kids was a bad idea. Way in over my head doesn't even describe how I have felt the last four months. Drowning. Overwhelm. Desperate. I began looking at other moms with more kids, just wondering in complete desperation, "How on earth are they doing that?" I began to think that these moms were superheroes. I could never do that.
We had one boy, one girl. Done. Done. Done. I am not a super mom, I realized. I cannot do any more than two children.
(As a side note, one should never listen to what a woman says in the first four months after a baby is born, because she is simply too exhausted and emotional to make any executive decisions about family or anything of importance.)
But then, over the last few weeks, I have realized that these moms with multiple children whom I so admire, the ones who actually seem happy, joyful with their kids, in love with their husbands, and at peace with their lives... well, those moms are the ones who trust Jesus, the ones who have peace with God. They have their heads screwed on right, they know to ask for help, and they are humble enough to admit their weaknesses. They are the ones who admit flat out that they cannot do this, that they are not super moms who have it all together. They didn't have several children because they believed they could do it. But they believed the Word of God which says children are a blessing, and they believed in the God who was able to equip them to be a mom to many children.
I don't know what our future holds. I don't know if there will be more children or not. I am still studying and learning about what it means that children are a blessing from the Lord, and why this is. But I do know that I am letting go of this idea that I would need to be super mom if we were going to have more kids, or that the moms with multiple kids are super moms married to super dads. Instead, I am recognizing the God's grace is what sustains these families, provides them joy, and nurtures their marriages to produce fruit for the Kingdom.
The best thing about having two kids, as far as I can see at this moment, is that it has forced me to ask for help. Even if it's something simple like asking my husband to hold the baby while I get food for the toddler or take him to the bathroom. While I do balance a lot on my own when I am home during the day, there is nothing more welcome than my husband coming home at the end of the evening -- not so I can burden him with a million needs, but because I know I can ask for help when it's really needed.
If the first kid taught me how selfish I was, the second kid has taught me (and is teaching me) how prideful I was (am). This is not a one-man show. Actually, my husband and I are supposed to be a team, and I can actually ask other people for help, be it advice, babysitting, or whatever. Having a second kid has shown me that I am not, in fact, super mom.
Now, I am going to try to learn that that is OKAY....
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