How Do You Know When Your Family Is Complete?

“What’s dat noise?” Logan asked. His face was turned skyward, and his chubby hand was shading his eyes. 

I heaved and swung the car-seat down from the minivan and followed Logan’s gaze. “Do you see that huge flag up there?” I would have pointed, but one arm was occupied with the hundred-pound car-seat, and the other was reaching for his hand. “That’s one of the ways you can tell we’re at a Perkins restaurant. They always have those big flags.” My eyes shifted to the other side of the van. “Shane! Conner! Let’s go!” I had to yell to be heard above the whistling wind.

Eager to get out of the cold, we hustled inside. As the door swung shut behind me, I raked the hair from my face and eyes. It was the day before Pi Day, and I had forgotten to purchase ingredients to bake a pie on my weekly trip to the grocery store. I was remedying the problem by making a quick stop to pick up a pre-made dessert of the lemon meringue variety.  

With the car-seat hanging from the crook of my arm, I herded the other three blonde moppets toward the glass case housing the baked goods. We passed a middle-aged woman and (presumably) her elderly mother on our way. The elderly woman smiled sweetly at me and said, “Poor Mama.” 

Her comment caught me off-guard. I didn’t think that I looked like I was struggling in any way, and my boys were all behaving quite well. Knowing that she meant well, I returned her smile and proceeded to purchase our pie. 

On our way out, the elderly woman caught my eye and repeated, “Poor Mama. So many little ones. They’re cute though.” 

This time, I was a little more prepared. “Oh, it’s fun!” I said. “We’re never bored at our house.”

Her lips pressed into a thin smile, and she wished me well.

As I drove home, my mind shifted back to that brief dialog. I wasn’t angry or annoyed with the elderly woman for her comments. She was a sweet soul trying to make conversation. Apparently, she felt sorry for me, but the irony was that I actually felt sorry for her. I couldn’t help but wonder about her life circumstances. What happened in her life that caused her to see children as a burden? Because I feel quite the opposite.

Our house is never quiet, and our floors are usually sticky with spilled milk. I haven’t taken a bubble bath in years, and the last time I’ve been on a plane was nearly a decade ago. I’ve got a to-do list a mile long that only gets longer and longer, and I won’t make any headway on it anytime soon. HOWEVER. Besides my husband, my children are my greatest blessings, a constant source of joy, entertainment, and purpose. I’ll take an imperfectly kept house any day in exchange for being able to caress Theo's little head as he nurses, feeling his peach fuzz hair under my fingertips. I’ll happily forego bubble baths in order to have my eyes fill with tears when my six-year-old tells me that his best friend in the whole world is Jesus. Who needs to travel when you can ask your just-turned-three year old for directions to Target (just for kicks), and he confidently gives you outrageously BAD directions on streets that he names himself, like “Looby Street?” So what if the to-do list multiplies itself overnight, when you feel the heft of your oldest child’s head on your shoulder as he gets lost in a good book with you? To me, the blessings of having many children FAR outweigh the challenges. I recall seeing (or reading?) an interview with the Duggar parents in which they were asked why they welcomed so many children into their family. They simply stated that their children are all blessings, and why wouldn’t you want more blessings? I get that, I really do.

Now, let's be real. There are days when my children (particularly if they are in their "terrible twos" or "horrible threes") drive me UP. THE. WALL. It takes us forever to get ready to go anywhere. Last week, for instance, one of my children contributed to us being ridiculously late for CC when he announced that he didn't have any pants to wear. I was perplexed, since I had just folded a huge stack of his pants the day before. After some investigating, I figured out that this child hadn't put away the pants like he was supposed to. Instead, he had dumped them all back into the dirty laundry, due to either laziness or lack of focus. Then, my husband, seeing that the basket was nearly full, ran a load of laundry, leaving all of my child's pants sitting damp in the washing machine. I yelled. A lot. When we finally made it to the minivan, I apologized to the boys for my less than patient reaction, and we swung through Starbucks to pick up a decaf skinny latté (for me) and hot chocolate (for them), so we could all just breathe and reset. By that point, we were so late it really didn't matter anymore. I'm human. I get stressed, tired, and just plain irritated.

When I feel frustrated with my children or like they're an inconvenience, it's usually because my head is not in the right place. Sure, it would be nice to get out of the door on time and tackle all of those DIY projects I've been itching to do. But is being prompt and reupholstering my ugly chairs more important than nurturing the souls of these little humans? Is anything more important than that? As C.S. Lewis said, "Children are not a distraction from more important work. They are the most important work." I truly believe that children are blessings and that I am privileged to be trusted with the task of raising them. On our living room wall, next to a canvas of the boys, I've displayed an art print by Lindsay Letters. The selection of this particular Scripture was very intentional: "Children are a heritage from the Lord. They are a reward from Him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are the children born in one's youth" (Psalm 127:3-4).

When you truly believe that your children are blessings, not burdens, how do you know when your quiver is full? How do you know when your family is complete? Recently and unexpectedly, I was pressured to answer that question, and my answer would have consequences. As of this very moment, I can tell you with 99% certainty that we are done having children. HOWEVER. There's that annoying little 1% just hanging there. And even more confidence-shaking is the fact that I also said (with 99% certainty) that we were done after we had Conner. And I said it again after Logan was born. Something always happens around the time my babies are about 18-months-old, and I start having baby fever again. Dan loves babies and children just as much as I do, so he always gets right on-board too.

I attribute that nagging little 1% of uncertainty to lots of things. First, I love babies (especially once they hit that sweet spot of about thee months), and the idea of not ever seeing one of my children's giant toothless grins when I come to collect him from his crib just kills me. It makes me want to weep. I also feel a degree of loss (yes, loss) about not having a daughter. If we decide that our family is complete, my odds of having a girl are 0%. (Unless God steps in with some kind of miracle.) If we say there's a possibility of having a fifth child, there remains a sliver of a chance that we could have a girl. (Dan and I don't make girls, I've decided, but I guess mathematically it's still possible.) Third, I really enjoy seeing the boys interact and develop friendships with one another. The oldest three adore their baby brother. All three of them ask multiple times a day to hold baby Theo. They make up sweet songs about their littlest brother, and they love tickling his tummy and toes. They cheer for him when he rolls over, and the oldest two fight over "the good spot" in the van, where there is the best view of Theo. Conner, as a middle child, has a fun place in the family in which he is able to play well with both Shane and Logan. Fourth, Dan and I only have one sibling each, and we both wish we had more. We love the idea of a big family. Finally, two of my favorite bloggers trust God with the number of children they will conceive, which I love and deeply respect. {See this post by M is for Mama and this post by Biblical Homemaking.}

So why wouldn't we want another blessing? Let's revisit the Scripture I quoted earlier: "Children are a heritage from the Lord. They are a reward from Him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are the children born in one's youth" (Psalm 127: 3-4, emphasis mine). I'll be turning 35 this year, and Dan will be turning 34. Women who have children after the age of 35 face increased risks in the areas of infertility and miscarriage, premature delivery and stillbirth, gestational diabetes, bleeding complications, hypertensive disorders of pregnancy, C-section, chromosomal abnormalities in babies, growth retardation in babies, and delivering multiples, according to my obstetrician and Parents magazine. Indeed, when Dan and I were trying to conceive our fourth baby, we were surprised to find that it took quite a bit longer than it had taken us for our first three. It was a stressful time for us. There's also been a trend among my babies in which each one has been born a little earlier. Shane was born exactly on his due date, Conner was born a week-and-a-half early, Logan was born two weeks early, and Theo was born four weeks early and considered premature. We were very blessed that Theo was healthy and acted like a full-term baby from the get-go, but there's no guarantee baby number five would have the same happy results.

I also had a bit of a health scare after having Theo. During my hospital stay after his birth, the nurses were monitoring my heart-rate, as they routinely do. They looked at the heart-rate monitor and then at me, and they urged me to relax. I actually hadn't been feeling emotionally stressed (not until their comments, anyway), but I could feel my heart pounding away like mad inside my chest. I'd been home with Theo for a couple days, and I noticed that the racing continued. It would happen after I had climbed the flight of stairs to our bedroom, and it would happen when I was sitting in the chair with my feet up watching an episode of Fixer Upper. It even happened when I was lying down at night, especially if I was on my left side. To make a long story short, I ended up telling my obstetrician about it, and they had me evaluated using an electrocardiogram and an echocardiogram. The doctors found the cause of my racing heart and told me that it was benign and would eventually go away. It has gotten much better, but I still get nervous when my heart pounds while I'm running on the treadmill, and when I occasionally experience palpitations while trying to fall asleep at night. The whole thing scares me. (Incidentally, I recently heard that a beautiful young mother [age 36] from our local area died unexpectedly of heart problems, leaving behind her husband and four boys. My heart breaks for this family, and it sounds a little too close to my own circumstances.)

Dan and I are certainly not ancient by any means, but we are feeling our age. With each new child we welcome into the world, we're finding it increasingly difficult to drag our exhausted bodies out of bed to deal with night terrors, nighttime nursings, and any other reason our children rouse us from our sleep. And, while a woman's ability to nurture, give birth to, and sustain a tiny human makes me marvel at God's incredible design, it does take a toll on the body. I'll never forget my first shower after giving birth to Theo. The nurse assisted me into the shower, and I turned the temperature up as high as I could stand. I looked down at my body--my swollen belly and my black and blue hands and arms--and I watched the blood swirl into the drain. I marveled at how there could be so much blood. And I had all that weight to lose. Again. I promised myself that this would be the last time I would put my body through another pregnancy, labor, and delivery.

Not only is the entire process getting more difficult as we age, but there are also the more trivial considerations. Dan and I wanted to have a "nice even number of children." If we had a fifth, we would probably want to have a sixth, OR I might have twins and get six right away! (God may have said "no" when I asked for a girl, but He mercifully granted me only singletons. I think He knows I might have snapped if I had multiples!) If we had another child, we would probably have to get one of those gigantic vans, which, frankly, I doubt I would even be able to drive decently. We might be able to swing another baby financially, but we would definitely have to get creative with our finances. And I already feel spread thin with four children--like someone is always being shortchanged on time or attention. (Hello, mom-guilt!) Dan and I would also love for our family to travel more. We've been putting it off for years, because our young ones don't travel well, and we try to honor their sleep schedules as best we can. Shane will be turning nine soon, and we've been talking to him about the trips we're going to take him on... someday. Dan and I are ready for the next chapter of our lives to begin, and for someday to be sooner than later.

By today's cultural standards, Dan and I were young when we had our first baby. I was 25, and he was 24. Years from now, when I look back at my life and consider my regrets, I don't think that I will regret completing our family at the age of 34. No. What I will regret, what I already do regret, is that we didn't start having children right after we were married. But we were different people then, and it is what it is. We can't change the past, and we are beyond grateful for the four little boys with whom we've been blessed.

So, back to that question I was pressured to answer: Is our family complete?  In all likelihood, yes, our family is complete. My maternity clothes and our newborn supplies (the ones I can bear to part with anyway) will be laid out on tables at our spring rummage sale, and I'm not feeling much (if any) apprehension about it. But I am not able to stand by that answer 100%, and I really don't feel like there's any reason to decide just now, when our baby isn't even sitting up yet. It's too soon for us to do anything to make the completion of our family official. I shared my heart with Dan and removed myself from the situation that was pressuring me to make a decision. Right now, I just want to enjoy my baby. I want to enjoy all of my boys. I love this verse from the nativity story in the book of Luke. "But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart" (Luke 2:19 NIV). That's what I want to do. I want to treasure up all these precious moments and ponder them in my heart.