The Quest for Kids

This is probably going to get deep. Grab a kleenex. (I'd loan you one, but mine are all used up!)

There was a time when I wasn't a mom. It's hard to even imagine now. That person. Who was she?

Back then I was so naive. I wanted 6 kids, to be precise. I didn't care about the house or the dog or the white picket fence. That all would fall into place somehow, because those things just happened. Right?

But I always knew from the time I was a little girl, that I wanted lots and lots of kids.

I kept the nursery in church.
I babysat during the summers.
I always reached for the little child, to hold her, and smile.
And dream of my turn.

And I knew I wanted to start right away having babies from the time I graduated high school. The husband part escaped me though. I searched in all the wrong places, and wrong ways, looking for love and acceptance. Someone to be the man in my life. I didn't have a concept of what a "real husband" looked like. I saw it before and I knew what it was. But somehow, this fantasy of a family just took over all logic and reasoning. I wanted my six children, and I wanted to be young when I had them. Any promise was a good promise to me. Every boyfriend was husband material. Which honestly, was unfair to them. I was way too young. I didn't relax and just enjoy being young.

So, I got married at 19.

19.

I quit college. And instantly became a mom. Insert Child #1

She was two, just turning three. I was smitten. Hook.Line.Sinker. There was nothing better than knowing I had someone else to care for. Someone to look up to me. Someone to tuck in at night.

But it wasn't easy. The whole process of becoming a mom, none of it was easy. And none of it was her fault. Please know this sweet girl because you changed me and made me the mother that I am today. I was so young. And I was just then learning to be a wife too. Laundry. Litter boxes. You know, the fun stuff of "playing house". Preschool. I was a "Stay-at-home-mom". Life was great, or so it seemed in my own little head and what I wanted everyone else to believe.

Fast forward, skip the drama, moving on....we divorced two years later and my life went into a tailspin. I saw her. I didn't see her. I kept her for weeks on end. Then I didn't see her for a whole year.

Life was crazy. I was a mess.

But somehow I overcame. There was something waiting for me just around the bend.

It wasn't long before I met the man of my dreams. No scratch that. Man of my prayers. This is when I started to let go, and let God. I wasn't doing so hot in this department. Surely He could do better??

Were we really that young? And THAT skinny? I forgot about them!

And guess what?

It was better. Life was good. 

And instantly I become a "mom" again. Insert Child #2. 

My second child was a stepson. He was also two. Ups, downs, difficulties but mostly good, easy living. This second addition to my brood was a piece of cake. Not that the first child was hard. Just that the situation was difficult and at times very painful. Not her fault by ANY stretch of the imagination. Just....well let's just say...I took life into my own hands and was running my own plan and that's just not the way things are supposed to go. God was in the details of marriage #2, because I had finally broken enough that I allowed him there. Some at least.

We married a LONG three years later in 2006. I had still yet to birth a child, the yearning was there, the flame had not been extinguished. I was jumping feet first and ready to make this happen. Let's do this thang!!

Six months into our marriage, it happened. I got the positive test, THIS is what I had been waiting for.

Circa 2006. This photo totally cracks me up. This was before I got wise and went the Dollar Store route for pregnancy tests.

Now let me take a minute and just stop right there...because I want to be sure I reiterate how much I love my stepchildren. I can't describe it fully because, well, is there a single mom out there that can fully describe the depth of love they have for their kids? I was all in. I knew what it was like to be a stepchild and I've been determined to never, ever, ever treat them differently than my future birth children. I'm sure I haven't always succeeded. It isn't easy. But I honestly try with ALL of my beating heart to love unconditionally and without limitations because of blood lines or birth lines. And anyway, I pretty sure my daughter and I are blood related anyway. We pricked fingers a long time ago! (I wonder if she remembers that?)

So I get the positive test. Insert Child #3

It's a crazy feeling. Your world does shift. Something changes. As much as you say it isn't different, there is a change. And because of that change, somehow I loved Child 1 and 2 even more because I KNEW just what it felt like to be their "real" moms in a weird way.

(Sorry for such a small image. For some reason that's the biggest I can get it! Hey alien baby!)

I'm pregnant. There were crazy changes to my world. To my body.

 (Blue walls. See what I'm talking about? And don't mind the Photoshop Panty-Hide!
What's so funny is that I thought at this point "HOLY COW I'M HUGE!!! HA!!!)

And speaking of that....no one tells you the TRUTH about pregnancy. And then the REAL TRUTH about birth, and breastfeeding, and the lack-of-sleep-crazy-brain, and rock-hard boobs. It's not until you are going through it that moms are all like "Oh yeah meee tooooo!" Pfft. Let's just be real. Pregnancy can BLOW during some weeks/months. Throwing up is for the birds. Gagging at your favorite foods makes you really sad. Torturous heartburn and worry about whether they will have ten fingers and ten toes. And making decisions about circumcisions - um hello, meltdown.

And Birth is NOT glamorous. It hurts. I was not prepared and after a few hours of uncontrollable shaking, puking and crying, I got the epidural. Praise Jesus, amen!

You will have leaky boobs. Mastitis hurts like a son of a gun! Latching on is not beautiful. You won't take a bath for several days sometimes. And the bad thing is, you won't even care! You are lucky to get out of the house at all, much less on time. Everyone forgets about you after the cute cuddly booger-head gets here. And you'll feel like a crazed maniacal zombie trying to figure out whether to CIO (Cry It Out) or NOD (Nurse on Demand) or all the other ABC's and 123 methods. It's crazy. And I admit it and won't even try to hide it because hiding the crazy makes the crazy worse. Believe me. I took the pills to prove it. 

After a really fussy baby, and months on end of just not knowing what to do, I felt like a useless person. I was a terrible mom. I couldn't even get my baby to stop crying! That's when the crazy set in. "I was not meant to be a mom. God is playing a joke on me for all the bad stuff I've done in my life. Every other baby sleeps and when it does cry, it takes a boob and STOPS for the love of Pete. What is wrong with me? I can't even get THIS right. Why can't I do this? Why is this soooo hard when it's ALL I ever wanted?" 

Then I cut out my dairy. And VOI-FREAKING-LA! It happened. He slept. The rash (that somehow I managed to not notice before) had gone away. I was sleeping.

 Hey sweet baby. I've been waiting on you!

And 2.5 years later I got all crazy and stuff and went and got pregnant again. Insert Child #4

Now, at this point, I'm all a "pro" at this mommy thing now. I immediately ask for morning sickness medicine. I immediately start wearing the maternity pants, because comfort comes first. I had the anesthesiologist on speed dial. I was ready to go.

(Image by my fried Carey Pace during a photography "meet up" in Tennesee. Circa 2011)

His birth was quick. Even at 9cm, I got the epidural. Praise the Lord, thank you Jesus! And he slept. He slept so much I thought something was wrong with him. I literally asked the nurse, "is he ok? babies don't sleep like this!" I think he was drugged from the epidural maybe because my labor was just so fast. I don't know...but I can only pray that this next baby gets drugged too. Is that bad? I would've thought so before my first child but now..........I speak truth.

 Hey sweet baby. Mommy loves your little man face. 

And just like that, I shifted. Something changed. Things sort of just started making sense.

 (Image from Pinterest)

I wasn't any better of a mom though, honestly. I am still losing patience way too quickly and I was comparing myself to "supermoms" who just seemed abnormally good at being a mom. Weirdos. But I changed. My heart changed. This kid changed me. Each one of them has in their own little ways. But God has seen fit to change me despite my lack of cooperation. I've come a long way since 19. Do they see it? Do they forgive me and know that mommy isn't perfect, but wholly imperfect and needing to be filled with Jesus? I pray so. But I've got a long way to go. I don't pray for patience anymore! I pray for contentment. Getting through this day. And courage to trust His plan.

And speaking of God and His infinite wisdom....

One day, a crazy irrational thing happened. My hubby and I decided to let go and let God...again. And God delivered. I kind of knew He would. He's like that. But in speaking in all truth and straight up honesty, I kind of kicked myself thinking "what in the world did we just do?". But can I tell you, that I feel complete peace today? God is so much more wise and He knows what we need and on what timeline. He has never forsaken me, even when I doubted, and cried, and tried to fix things myself.

He provided. Insert Child #5

I am pregnant. 14 weeks and 1 day.

I'm still in the sick phase. Everyone says this one is a girl because of that. And because, as innocent as they are in wishing so, everyone thinks we need a girl. But me? I'm ok if it's another boy. I'm ok if it's a girl. A healthy baby, right?! That really is ultimately what we pray for. And because we ARE dealing with honesty here, I do pray for a sweet sleepy newborn - or at least a little more common sense in letting people help me.

Yesterday (in my pink shirt):

A little baby bumparoo! And no, for the third time, we won't be finding out. It's a SURPRISE!

But I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant. I really.am.pregnant. I'm well on my way to my six kids....

Which leads me to the big question "Are you going to have anymore?" Well truthfully, people quit asking me that a long time ago, and now they just say "Oh really? Another one?! Wow!" LOL I know they mean well. It's ok people. We understand the comment. And for the most part, people are really excited for us. Whether it's because we might "finally get our girl" (ahem, I already have a girl!! see Child #1!), or just because we are in a different place now. We have new friends at church. Great people surrounding us. People who are genuinely happy for us and know that we are being equipped by the Master for our big ole family....and maybe even bigger plans. And Child #6. or #7. or however many He gives us by either birth, foster, or adoption. As I said in the other post, I feel done. I feel like for me, birthing babies, I'm complete in that department. But we'll see where the Lord leads us.

"Like arrows in the hand of a warrior, So are the children of one's youth. How blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them..." - Psalm 127:5

The quest for kids has really only just begun.

Lord, make my quiver full....

I should REALLY edit my beach photos from last year!
We do have a more family photo. *photographer's kid/family syndrome*

And in all effort to Keep It Real. 32 year old mom with no makeup. A crying (but laughing) 5 year old and a pestering 2 year old brother.
Ahhhhh, that's more like it! :)