You know, there is a time in your life that you come to. It is a delicate balance of wants and reality.
I am at that stage. Our youngest is now 10 months old. She is as cute as a button. She is just plain lovely. Literally plain lovely. She has the sweetest demeanor. We are definitely going out with a bang!
Yet, our hearts still cry out…another baby! Another baby! Another baby.
I think that there comes a time in your childbearing life when you still want more and yet your reality comes in and says to you, “Be grateful.”
That is where we find ourselves.
So utterly grateful. Beyond measure, really.
Grateful for the three amazing children that God has given us.
And happy. Oh man. I am so stinking happy that I am no longer pregnant.
My last 3 pregnancies were absolutely difficult. This last baby. This sweet and gentle spirit. At 30 weeks pregnant, my water basically was at the point of breaking and I was pretty much fully effaced. It was a rough remainder of a pregnancy. Yet we made it! Woot-woot.
But in the process of making it, we made a BIG decision. At 38 years of age, we were going to be grateful to God for the children that he delivered into our arms and quietly bow out of this game called pregnancy.
And hence, we tied our tubes.
Time’s up for the Nungesser Polish clan and their expansion plan 😉
Oh. Every single day since having our sweet and LARGE (10pounds, 10ounces at birth) Josephine, I feel better, can move more easily, and sleep more.
And as life becomes easier…My memory becomes less.
I forget how difficult my last 3 pregnancies were and how hard it was to bring Maxwell and Josephine into this world. And I begin to question our decision.
Tying our tubes? Was it right for us?
My sister-in-law told me once, “No matter if you have 1 child or 10, when it comes to the point that it is your last child, I think that there will always be something sad in your heart.”
And it is so true. There is a finality to tying tubes. To menopause. To realizing you are done…
So, now I am at the time in my life where I may feel wanting but I also feel grateful.
And overall contentment.
It doesn’t mean that the beautiful spirit of more children may never creep back into my heart or thoughts or desires, but as I sit typing this my youngest two (2 and 10 months—they are 19 months apart), sit on the floor near my feet playing choo-choo trains, and bear puzzles, and xylophone books. And Max just leaned over and patted Josephine’s back as she started to cough and said, “Okay, Gogo?” Because we call her Go-Go…Like a GoGo Squeezer.
And my heart beat fully.
Even with my tubes tied.
And 2 Makes Crazy 