It seems as though the questions never stop. When you are
single, people ask, “So are you seeing anyone?” When you are dating, people ask,
“so, when are you getting married?” When you are married, people ask “so when
are you going to have a baby?” And as soon as you get that baby out, the
questions just keep on coming. “So will you try for more?” I thought after
having four babies, the last two being twins, that the questions would stop.
But, I was wrong. Just in the last two weeks, people, some that I know well,
some that I’ve just met or barely know, ask me if I plan on having more
children. This has been the case since the twins were born. I assumed it was
normal and part of our culture’s extreme desire to know everyone else’s
business. My friend assured me that it is not everyone else. We have friends
with four children and they are not being asked when they will have another
baby.
Then, I thought, well, maybe, it was people’s interest in my
philosophy on children, when to stop having them, how to prevent that from
happening, etc. I’m involved in birth work as a doula and attributed it to
that. But, my friend assured me again it was not just that. She really thought
it had to do with the fact that I “seemed traditional.” And, by that, I guess she meant that because I
married young, I stay at home with my children, wanted a large family, and with
fairly easy pregnancies and deliveries (relatively speaking) could conceivably
keep this thing going.
This is a question my husband and I wrestle with a lot
lately. Fortunately, we were able to conceive very quickly. Sometimes even
quicker than we “planned.” But that brings up a wide range of emotions too. My
first baby was born a few months after I turned 24. By 28, I had four children
ages four and under. At that rate, you might as well call me Mrs. Dugger if no preventative
measures were taken. Also, I’ve lost babies through pregnancies. I have had
three miscarriages, one of them being a twin to my second son. That is a loss
that is hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t experienced it and the worst kind
of pain that you never want anyone to experience. I am certain that life begins
at conception and grieve the loss of the children I never got to hold. And,
because I grieve those losses, I am reminded more deeply of the blessing and
gift that children are.
So, why then, would I not want to continue welcoming those
blessings into my life? Maybe that’s what people really want to know when they
ask. And, I usually give them answers that they want to hear. I tell them, I
want to spend quality time with the children that I do have. My husband and I
plan on sending them to private school and want to be able to afford it. Cost
of living is high. Groceries are expensive. Any more children would not fit in
my current vehicle. Any and all of those answers are true and usually suffice
when asked.
But, if I’m honest, I’m terrified. I’m terrified of feeling
like I have before. I’m terrified of sitting on my back porch crying because I
feel nothing, want to do nothing, and have nothing to give my family. I’m
terrified that my baby will be born and the joy of holding that baby will not
rush over me. I’ll know that I’m supposed to be excited and pretend so no one
will notice that I’m not. I’m terrified that I’ll be driving and have a panic
attack so fierce that my mind and my body do not act in sync. I’m terrified
I’ll watch my life go on before me and feel like I’m a passive participant to
the life with the ones that I love. The depression that gripped me as a new mom
and the same depression that can roar its ugly head at any time, if not managed,
is powerful and the single most determining factor at the moment as to how to
proceed with the size of our family.
The desire to have a sibling for my first son is what pushed
me to proceed as I became pregnant with my second son and then with the twins.
I kept saying, “I know it will be worth it.” I had also learned what worked for
me to manage it well. I had great support through my midwives and OBGYN, the
extra help through my family and friends, hired help through housecleaners and
nannies to assist with daily responsibilities and regimented management through
medication, exercise and rest.
As a family, we invested a lot through expanding our family.
And, I can say, it was truly worth all of it. But, that desire, that push to
keep going is not there as present as it was before. Because of the lack of
desire to grow our family, sometimes I feel like a failure, like depression has
won. It’s gripped my ability to keep going, keep pressing through for the sake
of such a precious gift. On the other hand, I feel like a success, like
depression didn’t keep me from having the family I do have. I did keep going,
kept pressing through for the sake of my four precious gifts. They were worth.
Every single day, they are worth it.
And because they are worth it, it’s worth it to me to be
present with them, to be mentally and emotionally healthy, and enjoy the lives
I’ve been given to mother. One of my midwives told me early on that we all
deserve joy but we must fight for it at times. I was willing to fight for that
joy to create my family and I’m willing to fight now to mother them. But, I
have come to realize I cannot do both. This may not always be the case but for
now, I’m fighting for joy. Fighting for laughter, for love, for being fully
present in the lives of my littles. They are worth every bit of medication I
have to take, mile I have to run to get my adrenaline rising, nap I need to
take to recharge, and help I have to enlist. My head is rising above water and
I am ready to swim with them.
