Thank God that I don't lose any sleep over this any more, or allow it to send me into a tailspin of despair. I have had enough of that over the years and it's no longer a part of my life, no thanks to me or anything I did or any higher spiritual plane that I am on, of course. I simply have three babies who keep me busy and fill my home and heart with joy.
It's easy to not be sad with the miracles I have been given.
But that control thing. It gets me every time. Despite my blessings, I sometimes do get a tad bit sad, and jealous, and all the emotions that come along with infertility (just much more muted now). I want more kids and I can't just make that happen. I don't want the baby years to be over. I want a big family. I want to be able to decide how many we have. I want a second positive test. In the words of Veruca Salt, I want what I want and I want it now!
Of course, I know there are lessons to be learned. I'm not in control, none of us are. Even the ones who decide how many babies to have, when to stop.. they're not in control either. I know this. And I also know that, if I were fertile, I'd totally be one of those women who would just be so proud of my big, Catholic, NFP-using family. Too proud. I just know I'd be.
Thankfully, God is saving me from myself. So there's that.
This morning I had a little mini-awakening on this very topic. There's this statue of Our Lady in the front yard of a home near us that we pass almost every day. I have the kids trained to say a Hail Mary as we drive by and then pray for any intentions they may have.
Today, on our way from story hour to the gym, we passed it and we were all reminded by Clara that we needed to pray. After the kids asked God to bless their several in-utero cousins, I asked, "what about for another baby for us?" (they've been praying for that almost their whole lives at this point), to which Clara replied, "But Mama, we already have a baby and her name is Essie."
Not stopping there, I went on to ask, "But don't you want us to have another?" To which she answered, "We'll have another baby later, Mama."
Not surprisingly, the crazy in me took this to be a sign, like God speaking through my three-year-old. But that's not the point here. The point is that Clara was exactly right. We do have a baby. And her name is Essie.
What am I doing getting all worked up about wanting another so soon?
And I don't just have a baby. I have the most unbelievable little package of sweetness there ever was.
And she's only nine months. She's still technically, medically-speaking, a BABY. (Even if she is eating more than Luke at this point.)
But, that brings me back to my original point. It's really not about a baby. It's about control. (Okay, so it's a little about babies. And the strange [at least in some circles] desire to need a passenger van.) And I need only look at my three little miracles to see what God is capable of when you hand him over the reigns. Not that I actually willingly handed Him anything, let's get that straight. I was forced to have no control by my infertility. It would be a bit of an exaggeration to call it surrendering. I'd say more like it was ripped from my hands as I hung on with all my might. And then, as is bound to happen once you suddenly lose your grip, I was forcefully catupulted backwards. Into a brick wall. Or at least that's what it felt like at the time.
But maybe now, because it's a lot easier this time around with my kids and all, I can work on that surrendering thing. Every time I'm encountered with pregnancy envy, I can say something like this: "Lord, I surrender my fertility to you. You are in control. You know what's best for me and my family and you have showed me that in abundance."
And that's an understatement. I have been given more blessings than should be legal.
So why do I still struggle with this? It's only human, I suppose. We actually have so little control of everything that we grasp where we (think we) can get some. And it'd be nice to plan your family. Convenient. It would make life easier. But I can't. So I won't.
It might happen, "later," like Clara said. And it may not. But right now I'm going to hug my baby (and my two big ones) tight and try my best to work on being okay with the "may not."
Because, God, you've got this. Just help me to remember that.