If you’ve followed the blog for any length of time, you might be surprised by this news, as I wrote several years ago about how we were “done” having babies.
The back story I never shared?
Hubby was “done” but I still had that longing in my heart for one more baby.
Fast forward a few years, and hubby had a change of heart. Our plan was to just see what happened last summer in Costa Rica. Our youngest was turning 3 at the time, and the age difference seemed perfect. I had had a much longer break between babies than during my first three near back-to-back pregnancies.
But, to our surprise, nothing happened.
Month after month, my period came, and even a pregnancy test here or there confirmed that I was simply…late.
By January of 2016, we decided to get some tests run.
The prognosis came in and it was grim: This time the doctor said we were done having babies.
We were experiencing secondary infertility.
It might sound silly, especially considering that we already have three beautiful daughters, but we grieved this loss of fertility.
We grieved the chance of a fourth biological child.
We grieved not being able to make that decision ourselves.
Each question of “Are you done? Will you ever have another baby?” stung. But few knew what the doctor had told us.
I drafted blog posts about it, but I could not bring myself to click “publish.”
By spring, though, we had come to peace with this news. I was looking forward to embracing the school-age years, as our girls are now 8, nearly 6, and 4.
New seasons of life can be bitter but they can also be wrapped with so much sweetness. We looked forward to what lay ahead.
Then, in May, it hit me one day that I had missed my period–by nearly a week. I began to be alarmed and wondered what was wrong.
But I remembered I still had one pregnancy test left in my cabinet. But I can’t be pregnant I thought. Still, I had to rule this out before I began worrying about other things that a missed period could signal.
I took the test at 11:30 p.m. on a Sunday night.
The day before, we had cleaned out our garage and had donated a few remaining baby things to a charity yard sale. (I’m so not kidding!)
The plus sign appeared almost immediately. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was pregnant!
Since then, I’ve been in shock, but we are happy.
To have thought we would never have this opportunity and then to have the Lord grant our desire just a few months later….it’s been unreal.
I’m one of the blessed few who do not experience morning sickness, but I am usually extremely fatigued during my first trimester.
Thus, I slept for around 12 hours per day most of the summer. Hence, I didn’t show up on the blog as much, I stopped writing newsletters, and I was a bit quieter on social media.
Will you forgive me?
I’m now 22 weeks pregnant and am still taking it much easier than my normal fast-paced life.
We found out a few weeks ago that baby is a BOY, so I am preparing to enter a whole new world after mothering three girls for so long!
This time around, I’m savoring every minute. I don’t mind when people comment about how “big” I am because I never thought I would get the opportunity to have God weave a life together inside of me again. I look at my round belly growing, the skin stretching, and I see a beauty in it that I missed the first three times around.
I’m learning there’s a benefit of having a large space between babies: I never forget I’m pregnant. I treasure every kick.
With third (and probably second too), there would be days I would forget I was even pregnant because I was so consumed in the busyness of having other babies underfoot.
But this 4.5-year gap–coupled with the fact that we were told we wouldn’t be able to have more and knowing this baby boy will probably be our last–helps me to not forget.