When my husband and I met back in 2014, he reassured me that we absolutely could not date. We both were divorced, he had one child from his previous marriage and I had four. “I just can’t see myself dating someone with four kids”, he tells me, “but we can be friends”. Really? Friends? Ok sir, fine, we can be friends. I never had someone say that to me before. I have dated men before, but no one has come right out and tell me that they aren’t interested because of my children.
Obviously we became more than friends, we got married and now we are best friends, partners in crime, and ride or dies foreva!
We had been back and forth on whether or not we wanted to have another child. The idea was casually tossed around as we dated and the both of us would change sides constantly. Things were good the way that they were, every now and then one of us would get a rush of baby fever and the topic would be up for discussion, once again. “We already have 5, what’s one more :)”, I know he thinks I’m insane, he gives me a firm “no, absolutely not, out of the question.” Slightly disappointed, I leave the matter alone.
All my life I have wanted a large family. I can remember my days as a little girl, playing house with my sister and cousins, everyone carrying around their baby dolls, and I would always have the most baby dolls. Always! At least two, every time, I really wanted twins. My grandmother was a twin, and between her and her twin sister they had over 20 children. Most of my aunts and uncles were born in a small town and everyone knows them.
Any time the family gets together, they start talking about their childhood and how they were growing up. I get to hear stories about my mother and all her siblings. All the different sports they played, how they used to stick up for each other, their college days, it all just seems so iconic. So when I imagined having a family of my own, that’s what I wanted to create, a mega family.
Even though I was the one who initiated most of these “let’s have a baby” talks, I knew that my husband shared the same desire. I wanted him to be able to come home at the end of the day and see a little piece of himself. In all actuality, I knew for a fact that he wanted to have another child, he was just intimidated of being drastically outnumbered by a tiny number of little humans we created. I don’t blame him. He just woke up one day with a posy. He’s had to adjust everything he knows about life, his sleeping routine, his meals, and his free time, all taken away. Now that I see it that way, I guess I understand his response, but maybe I can change his mind.
It took a lot of work, blood, sweat, and tears, but somehow, I manage to convince him that we have this mega family under control. Our house remains in one piece at the end of every day. We can take trips to the zoo and leave with the same number of kids we started with, nothing more, nothing less, and they all belong to us. So maybe, just possibly the idea of adding one, just one and only one more child won’t destroy us. He said yes!
I’m a little over halfway through the pregnancy and it has been rough. There’s very little that I have been able to do around the house, but luckily for me, I have an amazing husband who has been beyond supportive and very helpful in picking up the slack.
I’m not going to lie, somewhere during this particular pregnancy I have gotten a little nervous. I’m surprised at myself, I have never felt this way before. I have bizarre questions running through my mind constantly and I’m wondering things like “Why on Earth did I want to have another child?” There’s an age gap of almost 8 years between our youngest daughter and the new baby. We were nearly halfway there and now we are starting over.
Then there’s the fear that I will spoil this child rotten, more rotten than the others, as if that is even possible. I really think this one is inevitable though. Two parents, five siblings, and two sets of grandparents, not to mention aunts and uncles, she is definitely spoiled, I’m just preparing myself now for that one.
If we had major issues with our children, I think the thought of adding to our family wouldn’t have been as much of an idea. We are very fortunate to have intelligent, well behaved children (for the most part). We have a routine that works and our lives function fairly smooth. (Yes, this is a slight brag, I’m very proud of my family and not ashamed of it.)
I’m looking forward to seeing how this new tiny person will change all of our lives. This is the first time that the other children are actually aware of what is happening, since they were toddlers all the other times I was pregnant. This time, they get the chance to be a part of the pregnancy, see ultrasound photos, feel the baby move, ask questions (lots of questions) and then experience life with a tiny baby in the house.
It’s funny to hear the things that they think they already know. When I first told the children we were having a baby, we had some mixed emotions to say the least. Our middle son has had a pregnant teacher every year for the last few years of school so he believes he is a pregnancy expert. He explains to his siblings that having a baby changes your body and “it’s kinda like having a stomach virus”, umm wait, did you just call the baby a stomach virus?
On the other hand, I felt like I was failing as a parent when our 12 year old came home upset over a conversation he had on the school bus. Apparently he was under the impression that a baby comes from your stomach. Which, I guess can be true, but in my case I didn’t have any C-sections, and therefore I felt obligated to explain to him what vaginal delivery was. Hopefully he remains as grossed out as he was for at least ten more years, and we can use this horror story as a form of birth control (fingers crossed) I’d really appreciate it.
With all that being said, I am delighted to be expanding our mega family. My brain has already started overworking and trying to plan out how life will be, which is practically impossible, but I do it anyways. I also tell my husband all the time that I can’t wait to tell people we have half a dozen children, he still thinks I’m crazy, and yet he loves me for every bit of it.