A friend has asked me my honest opinion and reflections about having a third child as she's praying about the possibility of trying for a third ... I figure that since his first birthday is in a few days, I'd go ahead and post those here.
When H and I were dating, we often talked about kids. We knew without a doubt we wanted more than one, and since H is the eldest of three, he wanted that many as well. I was the youngest of two, and I was happy with that, but open to the possibility of a third when/if the time ever came.
N was born exactly 18 months after G. That was hard. For a number of complicated reasons. My job had just exploded and we hurriedly moved to Duncan just prior to N's conception. I was trying to be the perfect SAHM (stay at home mom) and discern the direction of my vocation. And I concede that working for a few months while G was an infant was hard even before the Great Demise. Mamahood and the Priesthood was a lot to try to juggle, and we all know that I often take myself far too seriously and that I'm not very adept at multitasking.
So N arrived, and the transition from one baby to two babies was a lot to take in. I would not have survived without the help of family and friends (although I was very resistant to asking for that help! Having two is more than twice the work of one, as most everyone with multiple kids can attest.) So when N stopped breastfeeding, we of course had to consider if we were ready for that theoretical third baby. Continued fertility issues were a possibility, so I felt pressure to fish or cut bait. But we had our hands full, and life was good, and we felt complete with the girls.
Whew!
So I started working again ... with baby steps. Working two days a month in Tryon eventually turned into a quarter-time position in Spartanburg. Both in addition to full-time Mamahood. Still not very good at multitasking, I was making it work - well, more or less. I wasn't very good at either position as mama or priest, but we were making do. (It's really hard to be fully present as a priest in community on a part-time basis. The needs of the community and the aspect of the priesthood that I love and that I'm good at - pastoral care and crisis intervention - don't exactly happen on Sundays and Wednesday morning office hours.) At any rate, I was beginning to consider full-time work since the girls were getting nearer to school-age versus trying for that third baby. (Although admittedly, the string of pregnancies in the parish infected me with a terrible case of baby fever.)
And then we were pregnant. The decision was made.
I sort of freaked out. A third child?!? That meant that we'd have to move (again) since the house wasn't big enough - despite being in the middle of the over-the-top-expensive addition. And a new car. And the end of any chance of living fully into my priestly vocation - at least for a while. And then to find out he was a boy! Oh, my. A boy? Really? I'd kept most of the girls' clothes and toys ... and sure he could wear some pink early on ... But really? A rough and tumble, aggression-filled boy who will eventually go looking for trouble anywhere he can find it?
Not to mention the bigger fear: would I have enough physical and emotional energy for three kids? All too often, I felt overwhelmed with just two... What about the financial part? I wouldn't be able to work again for several years ... (Or if I did go back to work, I'd simply be working for the privilege of having someone else raise my kid and it'd be a financial wash.) And then there's college to consider. How would I juggle soccer practice and dance class and art lessons and piano recitals? And what about all these Little Pet Shop toys and Barbie shoes laying about with the baby on his way? Was having another baby fair to the girls ~ fewer resources of all kinds available to them - emotionally, financially, physically...
Then there was the move to Germany to consider. How would all that work? And why is is that we can't seem to make a move across the pond without an infant in arms?
I expressed what I hoped was a positive attitude about my whole inner freak-outedness to a good friend I had at the time, and she proceeded to tell me what 'a horrible idea it was for me to have another kid.' (No holds barred.) 'A terrible idea. What was I thinking?' And then went on to explain all the reasons why.
Yeah, not helpful.
I got a lot of support from family and church, however. One sweet lady at church who had three small boys descended upon my house late in the pregnancy with bags and bags and bags of baby boy clothes. And the parish threw us a HUGE baby shower. It was all pretty unbelievable.
But I was enormous. And uncomfortable. (Of course I was several years older since my last pregnancy, and my body chose to remind me of that fact on a daily basis.) There was a series of scares early in the pregnancy that maybe it wouldn't work out, but E thrived and grew, and my belly grew and grew and grew. I even had to get a special harness to wear under my clothes to help hold my belly up.
Everyone else's excitement that E was coming more than compensated for my hesitancy.
Then he was here. And I laid eyes on the little guy and fell in love. Bob Dylan wrote a song called "To Make You Feel My Love," and there's a part in it that goes 'I know you haven't made your mind up yet, but I would never do you wrong. I've known it from the moment that we met, no doubt in my mind where you belong...' that started rolling around in my head as I held his fussy little newborn self in my arms.
Despite my inner turmoil and fears and anxieties about having a third baby, much less a boy!, the whole experience has been a testament to the abundance of God. Everything just fell into place. The construction on the house finally ended. Aunts and uncles and grandparents all swooped in with invitations to take the girls for overnights, or bring cousins for playdates, or bring food, or clean, or whatever it was that I might want or need. (I don't know if they realize quite how grateful I was for each and every thing they did!!) A dear friend bought my car just days before our flight. Our neighbors volunteered to keep our yard tidy. We got reputable tenants for our house right after we settled in Germany. The list goes on.
I won't claim that it's been easy. I can honestly say though that the transition from one to two was significantly harder than from two to three. But I was lucky in that the girls were big enough to entertain themselves when I needed to attend to E's needs. And they were also old enough to verbalize what their needs were when I was too exhausted to intuit them myself. And they LOVE their little brother! Yes, I'm a bit more cranky than I'd like to be on a day to day basis, and I rarely get enough sleep or time off. The house is pretty consistently dirty as well as untidy and we eat out or heat up frozen pizza more than is likely healthy. I'll have to live with only 2.5 years of credited service toward my pension (once upon a time I made really good money!) and have to find a non-parochial, part-time job when E starts pre-school ... And I will continue to struggle with finding time for myself, my husband, to spend one-on-one with each of the kids and still get all the other stuff done ... I've not found a good solution to any of that yet.
And yes, I've spent hours with the mantra "I love my kids" as I plow forward, reflecting on how love is often a choice as opposed to a warm and cozy ooshy-gooshy feeling. (And remind myself that that's how God must feel about me with my constant needs and "I wants.") But those moments are quickly overshadowed by bedtime prayers that start "Thank you God for Mama..." or "Can I have just Mama-daughter time?" or even baby zrbrts on my stretched-out baggy belly flab.
I can easily live with all that. We're happy. We're healthy. As a family, we're whole. And given a choice to do it all over again, I wouldn't change a thing. Well, maybe splurge for a few more pre-natal massages.
I love you, Li'l E! And Happy Birthday! You make my heart smile ~
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