Saturday, January 3, 2009

The Stockings Were Hung...

It's hard to believe it, but Christmas is over. Again. And although I dread this process every year, I know it's time. Time to pack up the ornaments, the tree, the dishes, and all the other vestiges of our wonderful family Christmas in preparation for a new year. But as I was taking down our family Christmas stockings - hung by the chimney only a few short weeks ago - I couldn't help but be reminded of a conversation from three Christmases past.

It was the first Christmas in our new home, and the first time I'd hung those family stockings. The kids' grandmothers and I had worked hard to get them beaded and sequined and stitched in time for the holidays. I was excited about showing them off, and my dear friend Cristie had stopped by to admire them. She was sweet enough to "oooo and ahhh" over them for a few minutes before we sat down on the couch for a chat. But as we made ourselves comfortable, she glanced over towards the mantel and said, "It must be so neat to look up there and see that row of stockings. I don't know how many stockings we'll eventually have, but just think - that's your whole family up there. It's complete!"

She was right, of course. My family was complete. After all, Cristie knew the hell of my last pregnancy, and she knew that the doctors and my family were firm in telling me, "No more babies!" She also knew that I'd finally decided to go through with a tubal ligation to ensure that there were, indeed, no more babies. So her comment should have encouraged me with the lighthearted spirit in which it was given: Your family is complete. No more pregnancy complications, no more hospitals, no more home medical equipment. You can move forward in your identity as the mother of three daughters.

But for some reason, I felt my spirit sink at her words. But she's right, I told myself. Our family is complete. I know it's complete. It has to be complete...

Why doesn't it feel complete?

I was totally aggravated with myself for allowing the thought to even enter my mind, much less to fixate on it. But for the next three months, as I waited for my scheduled surgery date, I wrestled with feeling that something was missing in our home. Maybe we just need to get a dog, I thought, as I squelched my longing for just one more baby.

Then, a few short days before the surgery, my friend Rachel asked me how I was feeling about getting my tubes tied. We were with the kids at the zoo, so I figured she was looking for the short answer. I gave her my patented, "Great! It'll be so nice when I don't have to worry about getting pregnant again. I mean, I just don't think I'd survive another 9 months. Besides, I think it's so neat that God has blessed me with three children, since you know I lost three before I had Ella..." I trailed off. Everything I'd just said was true, but it wasn't the whole truth. And suddenly, I just wanted to tell someone the whole truth.
Standing next to the kangaroo habitat, I shared it all: how I felt about being "sterilized" after suffering infertility; how I felt about potentially closing the door on God's blessings; how I sensed that my family just wasn't finished. I ended by telling her, "I know this is for the best. I've prayed about it. I've sought wise counsel, and I know my husband wants me to do this. So I'm trying to be at peace. Besides, I certainly have enough faith to know that if God wants to expand our family, He will. Who knows? Maybe we are meant to adopt."

Two days later, I was staring down at the bright blue plus sign on my ClearBlue Easy.

It's funny how God stretches our faith. Sure, I believed that He could expand our family. I even had a list of appropriate means by which He could accomplish the task. But another pregnancy was not on the list. I was scared to death when I saw that positive test. I just kept thinking, Four children. Four children in four years. How are we going to do this???

Were my faith bigger, I would have trusted that God had everything in hand. That He was blessing us with a sweet-natured, happy son who delights us everyday. That He was arranging not only help for me, but a great new friendship in the form of my next-door neighbor, Jackie. That He was ready to give me the grace I'd need for each new day as the mother of four precious children. And that He wanted me to look up at my mantel this Christmas and see a row of not five stockings, but six: my complete family.




3 comments:

Jackie, Chris, and Camden said...

Oh your family is precious! You are so blessed! They are all here and healthy to celebrate life with you! Happy New Year!

MindyMac said...

Praise the Lord you didn't get a dog!!! : ) I remember I bawled my eyes out after you told me you were pregnant. I wrote a whole lot in my journal that day about how angry and scared I was because we had been informed by all the medical professionals that had been near you that another pregnancy could in fact kill you. And now I can't IMAGINE life without Baby Ty!!!! Thank the Lord that the predictions were wrong, the doctors wouldn't do the procedure the first time, and for the David Cup!

Jenny said...

beautiful...Isn't it funny how we just love to give God parameters in which to work. "You can expand my family, Lord. And I think it would be best if you do it this way...., etc." I'll never forget how you told us you were expecting that sweet little boy (One more for our trip to Chicago)!