A few months after having my fourth baby, Lincoln, I didn't want to get pregnant again. Not yet.
It was the same way after I gave birth to my third baby, Kimball. Jayze and had I decided to wait at least a year after we had him. My pregnancy with Kimball, especially the very end, was difficult emotionally and physically. I had a hard time bonding with him, and I was ready for a break. But, after a special experience and a flip-of-the-switch-type-answer from Heavenly Father, 9 months later we were pregnant with Lincoln.
I've been really fortunate in my pregnancies. Morning sickness in the beginning (all day car sickness and extreme fatigue), energized with a cute baby bump in the middle, and then waddling my way through more waves of fatigue and pain until I have the baby. You might say I have textbook pregnancies. It was that way even with Alma all the way up until he passed away. My labor and delivery with him and my physical recovery from giving birth went quickly and well. In fact, one of the women I used to work with told me (soon after I had Alma), "You're born to have babies!"
With that little bit of context in mind, you would think that making the decision to try getting pregnant for me is easy, but it's soooo not. I've described it to others before that it's like a light switch. I have a baby, then I really don't want to be pregnant again until suddenly I do and it feels right to try again. We've received the go-ahead from Heavenly Father every time. (It was a little different after Alma, but I won't go into that right now). People ask us how many kids we want, and I know after having Alma, it's not that simple. I can have a specific number in my head, but who knows if that's what God has in mind for us? So our way is taking it just one baby at a time.
However, even with all that, Jayze and I were determined to wait longer between Lincoln and the next pregnancy. And I mean really determined, especially me. I wanted longer to heal and time to accomplish a few personal goals. Plus, I was already slightly overwhelmed with three boys at home. Not enough to be crazy hard, but just hard enough for that daily stretching and sometimes painful HIIT moments that come with being in the trenches of motherhood.
A year went by, and it was weird not to be pregnant with another baby while celebrating Lincoln's one year birthday. That light switch hadn't flipped yet, and I wasn't sure when it was going to happen. To be honest, I was grateful I hadn't felt it yet. I always have a lot of fear during my pregnancies, and I just was not ready.
Not long after Lincoln's first birthday, Jayze and I started talking more seriously about trying for another baby again. Was it the right time? Were we ready? Was there another child waiting for us? We couldn't decide, so we let it sit.
One night, a few weeks later and after a moment of subtly knowing I was pitting my will against God's on this matter, I had the very distinct impression, "Do you trust me?" It came like lightning to my heart. I still felt overwhelmed by the thought of being pregnant again, but I couldn't deny it. I knew it was time to set aside my plan and put my faith in Heavenly Father's plan.
The next month we were pregnant.
I'd like to say I was excited, but the reality is when I saw the pregnancy test results, a mix of emotions washed over me - mostly sadness and anxiety (which is soooo hard to admit). I thought, How am I going to take care of four children here at home four years old and younger? Aidan doesn't start school for another year. They all have such different needs. How am I going to do it all?
In my opinion, one of the hardest parts of motherhood is splitting my attention five different ways. Each of my children all have such different needs and love languages, and I hate not having that one on one time with each of them like I had when it was just Aidan and me. But, I took a picture of the pregnancy test and told Jayze later that night the news. We sat on the couch holding hands, trying to envision the next 9 months. We knew it wasn't going to be easy. It doesn't have to be easy every time. That night as I prayed, I held onto the truth that this was right. I felt a deep peace because I was intentionally putting trust and faith in God. "Do you trust me?" kept coming back, and I decided that yes, even though it was hard, I did trust Him.
In my opinion, one of the hardest parts of motherhood is splitting my attention five different ways. Each of my children all have such different needs and love languages, and I hate not having that one on one time with each of them like I had when it was just Aidan and me. But, I took a picture of the pregnancy test and told Jayze later that night the news. We sat on the couch holding hands, trying to envision the next 9 months. We knew it wasn't going to be easy. It doesn't have to be easy every time. That night as I prayed, I held onto the truth that this was right. I felt a deep peace because I was intentionally putting trust and faith in God. "Do you trust me?" kept coming back, and I decided that yes, even though it was hard, I did trust Him.
Fast forward to the much-anticipated 20-week ultrasound appointment. We thought we were having a girl (like all the other times!), but this time we were secretly hoping for another boy. We even had a name picked out, which was a miracle in and of itself (boy names are so hard for us!). But at the very end of the ultrasound, after I went to the bathroom three different times and switched positions about 100 more so she could get the right measurements, the ultrasound tech finally saw the gender and announced, "You're having a girl!"
Immediately I was excited, but I was also so scared. You know that feeling of wanting to cry, but it just gets stuck in your chest and the tears won't come? I had that. I walked out of the office to my car and just sat there for a few minutes taking it in. As I stared out the front window to the sunny outside, I thought of when I got the news that Aidan was a boy. It was a similar feeling, except with Aidan I did cry.
Immediately I was excited, but I was also so scared. You know that feeling of wanting to cry, but it just gets stuck in your chest and the tears won't come? I had that. I walked out of the office to my car and just sat there for a few minutes taking it in. As I stared out the front window to the sunny outside, I thought of when I got the news that Aidan was a boy. It was a similar feeling, except with Aidan I did cry.
It's hard to describe to anyone who hasn't been through it, but I felt that way because just like that I was back at square one. Actually, more like square one and a half. This pregnancy with this sweet little girl right now feels so much like my pregnancies with Alma and Aidan - a perfect mix between the two. Perfect, yet terrifying. Anxiety and what if's and denial waging their war against peace, trust, and faith. An entire 40 weeks of not knowing if we're going to get to bring this child home, but really really really hoping we can.
My pregnancy with Lincoln was the most peaceful I'd had. I truly feel like it was a beautiful, precious gift from God - one I am still immensely grateful for. I knew my body could handle carrying a healthy, living baby boy past 37 weeks, and my heart had healed in so many ways since bringing two other boys home. I felt prompted to give birth to Lincoln naturally (another post for another day), so that's what I focused on. I wanted another boy because I knew I had handled it before and could handle it again.
Having a girl this time makes it feel like we're having our first baby again. New clothes, new blankets, the thoughts of, "What do we do with a girl?" Comments from other people didn't help either. It was painful and annoying to hear, "You finally get your girl!" This might savor a little of bitterness (although I know people really do mean well), but whenever someone tells me that I think of bluntly responding, "Are my boys not good enough?"; "Well, we actually wanted a boy again"; "We're not just over here having all of these kids hoping for a girl"; "I'm glad you're excited I'm pregnant again, but would you be that excited for me if we were having another boy?"
One day I was cleaning up the kitchen after breakfast when the song, "Faith in the Middle" by Hilary Weeks came on. My kids were running around playing, there were dishes in the sink and dirty dishes on the table, but with a wet dishcloth in one hand I stopped in my tracks, leaned on the sink, and just cried. Like, ugly cried cried.
Heaven is open, God has spoken, He has spoken to you
You've had a witness, You know that this is what you're meant to do
The flame is burning and hope is alive, but you've been here before
And you know there'll be times
[Chorus]
When doors are gonna close and you need them to open
Some will second guess the direction you are goin'
Lot of fading hope might dwindle
And you're gonna need some faith in the middle
To keep you moving forward when you think you've reached your limits
To step into the battle when you're not sure you can win it
When you question or doubt more than a little, well that's when you're gonna need faith in the middle
Maybe you're thinkin' about leavin', let go, or turning around
You've come so far, you've worked too hard, don't walk away now
You're gonna make it, it's worth the climb
So don't you give up, even though there'll be times
[Chorus]
When doors are gonna close and you need them to open
Some will second guess the direction you are goin'
Lot of fading hope might dwindle
And you're gonna need some faith in the middle
To keep you moving forward when you think you've reached your limits
To step into the battle when you're not sure you can win it
When you question or doubt more than a little, well that's when you're gonna need faith in the middle
You're gonna make it, it's worth the climb
So don't you give up even though there may be times
[Chorus]
My pregnancy with Lincoln was the most peaceful I'd had. I truly feel like it was a beautiful, precious gift from God - one I am still immensely grateful for. I knew my body could handle carrying a healthy, living baby boy past 37 weeks, and my heart had healed in so many ways since bringing two other boys home. I felt prompted to give birth to Lincoln naturally (another post for another day), so that's what I focused on. I wanted another boy because I knew I had handled it before and could handle it again.
Having a girl this time makes it feel like we're having our first baby again. New clothes, new blankets, the thoughts of, "What do we do with a girl?" Comments from other people didn't help either. It was painful and annoying to hear, "You finally get your girl!" This might savor a little of bitterness (although I know people really do mean well), but whenever someone tells me that I think of bluntly responding, "Are my boys not good enough?"; "Well, we actually wanted a boy again"; "We're not just over here having all of these kids hoping for a girl"; "I'm glad you're excited I'm pregnant again, but would you be that excited for me if we were having another boy?"
One day I was cleaning up the kitchen after breakfast when the song, "Faith in the Middle" by Hilary Weeks came on. My kids were running around playing, there were dishes in the sink and dirty dishes on the table, but with a wet dishcloth in one hand I stopped in my tracks, leaned on the sink, and just cried. Like, ugly cried cried.
Heaven is open, God has spoken, He has spoken to you
You've had a witness, You know that this is what you're meant to do
The flame is burning and hope is alive, but you've been here before
And you know there'll be times
[Chorus]
When doors are gonna close and you need them to open
Some will second guess the direction you are goin'
Lot of fading hope might dwindle
And you're gonna need some faith in the middle
To keep you moving forward when you think you've reached your limits
To step into the battle when you're not sure you can win it
When you question or doubt more than a little, well that's when you're gonna need faith in the middle
Maybe you're thinkin' about leavin', let go, or turning around
You've come so far, you've worked too hard, don't walk away now
You're gonna make it, it's worth the climb
So don't you give up, even though there'll be times
[Chorus]
When doors are gonna close and you need them to open
Some will second guess the direction you are goin'
Lot of fading hope might dwindle
And you're gonna need some faith in the middle
To keep you moving forward when you think you've reached your limits
To step into the battle when you're not sure you can win it
When you question or doubt more than a little, well that's when you're gonna need faith in the middle
You're gonna make it, it's worth the climb
So don't you give up even though there may be times
[Chorus]
Those lyrics were perfect for me that day, and they keep coming back to me on the hard days. This spiritual fire is intense and scorching, but I know enough from past experiences that when I turn to God I will come out stronger and more refined in the process.
In one of my workout videos, the people in the video and I are practically sitting on the floor because we're doing such low squats. My legs are burning and I'm hating the instructor because he's not letting me stand up and I don't know when I'll get to stand up. He's sweating and pumping his fist into his hand and says, "Don't run from the pain. Embrace it."
And guys, that is so.hard.to.do. Like, are you kidding me? How am I supposed to embrace this?
In one of my workout videos, the people in the video and I are practically sitting on the floor because we're doing such low squats. My legs are burning and I'm hating the instructor because he's not letting me stand up and I don't know when I'll get to stand up. He's sweating and pumping his fist into his hand and says, "Don't run from the pain. Embrace it."
And guys, that is so.hard.to.do. Like, are you kidding me? How am I supposed to embrace this?
But I tell people now who have lost a baby, "Feel all of the feelings. Don't run away from grief - let it run its course. It's okay to not be okay. It's okay to grieve. You're not crazy. It's painful, it's hard, but if you let it you will become stronger because of this pain. You will rise from this, and it will be beautiful."
"There's no grief like the grief that does not speak," said Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Speak your grief! Don't hold it in. It will get worse if you run from it, but it will get better if you let it out.
I love this quote that I posted in one of my blog posts What Matters Most:
"The price we paid to become acquainted with God was a privilege to pay."
("Refined in Our Trials," James E. Faust, 2006)
("Refined in Our Trials," James E. Faust, 2006)
With all of these feelings I've had, I know there is something to learn from this. With this pregnancy with my sweet baby girl. I am paying the price yet again to know God. It's not easy, but it is worth it. And as hard as it is, I am thankful for it. Because to know God is worth it.
So I'm going to keep showing up. Showing up for me, for Jayze, for my baby girl, for my boys. Showing up for the battle, and having the faith that no matter what happens, God's got this. God's got me.
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| 28 weeks + 1 day pregnant with Baby Girl Flake |
