It is hard to believe how old my baby's getting. Today we were playing, and he holds up his hands and says, "Whoa, whoa, whoa." He obviously thought we needed to take a break.
It was really cute, and everyday he is understanding and communicating better.
I love my little guy.
It's not always easy to be a stay-at-home mom, but to be honest, it's all I've ever wanted. Whenever life gets kind of aggravating, and I find myself losing patience with my son, I have to remind myself that not only is this what I asked for, but I want more of the crazy little tykes.
In all honesty, we've been struggling for a while to get pregnant again. It's been over two years since we started trying. I can never fully understand what couples with infertility go through because I have Kevin, but I will say this...my empathy has grown profoundly toward you, and you have my respect.
The hard thing is, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with us, and every month I get my hopes up, and then they are crushed. I have struggled to have faith and to put my trust in the Lord, but every time I've heard someone announce they're pregnant, or seen a new-born baby, pain strikes at my heart and I weep internally. I truly am happy for them, but I also sorrow because my empty arms ache to hold a little one.
Kevin is less of a baby every day. He helps me and hinders me, but he is slowly learning. The man that is inside him continues to emerge, and though it's a wonderful journey, it can be a somewhat sad one as well. I wouldn't change him for the world, but I desperately want him to have younger siblings. He's going to be such a great big brother.
I was born into a family with ten children. My parents are incredible people and my mother was blessed to be able to stay home with us. I've always wanted a big family. When Grig asked me how many kids I wanted, I told him, "Eight."
I asked him how many he wanted, and he told me, "Four or five."
We've gotten to the point now where we're happy with as many as the Lord will send us.
We've talked about adoption, but we haven't felt that the time was right for that yet, either. That doesn't mean it's out of the question, it just means "not now."
We feel that the time is drawing near for the next baby to come to our home, and I am trying to keep having faith. It is difficult, but I have learned a lot from this trial. I've learned to appreciate Kevin so much more, and it's been great to get to know him one on one.
He has taught me a lot.
I've also learned that it's easy to have faith for a while, but after months and months, it becomes difficult. Doubt begins to creep in, and we wonder if something isn't wrong with us. It is easy to wonder if we're doing something wrong, and we begin to look internally instead of externally to the source of all hope and truth.
I have also learned to lean more on my husband. He is a great man, and has been a huge support to me throughout all of this. I've never loved him more, but I also know that my love for him will continue to grow. He is a great provider and protector for our family. He is also a great father. Kevin looks forward eagerly all day for his dad to come home and play with him.
Being a mom is challenging. I never thought I would struggle with infertility. Kevin came so quickly after we were married that the nurses dubbed me "fertile myrtle." I thought it was funny, and I thought we'd have lots of children right in a row.
Obviously that isn't what's best for our family. I know the Lord has a plan for us, and that things will happen when they are supposed to. I know the Lord wants us, and when we have righteous desires he opens the way for us to do as He has commanded.
We will have more children. I know this is true. I just have to keep up my faith.
For all of those who struggle or who have struggled with infertility, know that you are in my prayers. There are many things I have not yet experienced in this life, but there is someone who has. Turn to your Heavenly Father, and through Christ's grace we can find comfort as we struggle in this life.
I see you there,
In your mother's arms.
She holds you close
and you gaze at her.
Your love and adoration
prick my very soul,
and inside I sob
longing for my own.
My arms ache for a tiny form
to nestle inside of them.
My heart hurts as those around me
ignore my pain.
They don't know I'm suffering.
They don't know I'm bereft.
They can't see through my mask
and water leaks through the cracks.
Then light fills me
I begin to glow.
Assurance has come
The doubt dissipates like dew.
I can see you
Your hair dark
Your soul is pure
Your eyes meet mine
You are coming
And I await
With arms outstretched
Ready to gather you home.
*I was feeling compelled to write poetry. I don't like to share poetry usually, because if I write it, it's intensely personal. Please forgive my lack of form. The thoughts didn't want to be restricted.