Just One (More) Child

I remember when I prayed for just one child. After months of negative tests and two early losses I prayed that I could finally get to hold a baby in my arms on this earth, MY baby. For so long I had wished to be mom and I wondered if I ever would be. That’s all I wanted. And a little over a year into our journey to parenthood God answered my prayers.

I remember when I was surprised with another pregnancy right after our daughter turned one. I knew I wanted another baby but I didn’t think it would happen so soon. I was scared at first but then overjoyed. And then I was exhausted, and terribly nauseous. Still waking up to painfully nurse my daughter back to sleep every few hours overnight. Oh how I wished I could just get some rest. My body ached for it. Sometimes in the middle of the night I would cry over it. And then at my routine 12 week appointment I found out our baby was gone, just like that. No heartbeat. And I would do anything to get that baby back. Any amount of pain or nausea, any number of nights without sleep. Our baby had left us so suddenly and I was overwhelmed with guilt for not cherishing the time I had with her more.

A few months later we got pregnant again and I was so ecstatic. I thanked God over and over again for the gift He was giving us. That pregnancy was full of joy, excitement, and also a lot of anxiety. Pregnancy after loss is difficult to navigate through. I was so relieved once our beautiful baby girl was finally here. And after we brought her home so many of my earlier fears melted away about how our new life would be with two. How would my first daughter do? Would she feel less loved? Would she struggle with not being my only baby anymore? Would my love cover both daughters equally, and enough? My first daughter did have some struggles with the adjustment, and still does from time to time. But instead of having less love now she has more. She loves her baby sister and her sister absolutely adores her. I love watching them together, playing, hugging, and making each other laugh.

After I had my second daughter my love grew to a depth that I didn’t know existed. I realized I’ll never run out of it. My heart leaps seeing the bond between my two children, all of the love they have and will have for each other. And suddenly, I wanted even more for them.

I wanted them to have more love. Another sibling to do life with. Another built-in best friend. Another shoulder to lean on, to laugh with, to cry with, to hug. To celebrate the holidays with. To pick up the phone and call in the middle of the day or night. Knowing they will probably never have cousins, I wanted more family for them to grow up with, and to have when we are gone.

And then, selfishly, I wanted more for myself. I wanted even more love in my life, because having children is beautiful and precious, and it feels like this is what this life is all about. As my family grows, it feels like I’m fulfilling God’s plan for my life. I wanted to experience the miracle of pregnancy and childbirth again. I wanted to see God’s goodness and graciousness through another child. I wanted another child to love, to raise, to fill up my backseat and drain my energy. To drive me crazy halfway through the day and to miss at night when they go to sleep. To keep me up at all hours and to snuggle back to sleep. Parenthood is the greatest, hardest, most rewarding vocation in the world. Is it greedy of me to want more for our life? A part of me feels guilty for wanting more when I should be happy with the two blessings we have been given. And I am so, so happy with them. They fill my life with more joy than I can express. But I think it is also okay, and even good, to want more. I think the desire to have more children is a God-given desire. I believe that He planted this ache in my heart for another child. And I pray that the Lord grants the desires of my heart. Again.

For this child I have prayed, and the Lord has granted me the desires of my heart. – 1 Samuel 1:27

Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them. – Psalm 127: 3-5