Now that we’re pretty sure we’re done having biological children of our own, I’ve had the grieve the end of a time of creation in our family. It is like the craziest, most special thing to get to be a part of creating four unique and individual little people. It’s been the biggest honor and biggest privilege and I’m sad those days are over.
Sometimes I’m really sad. All the feelings (ALL THE FEELINGS) weigh me down in the most inopportune times…like the frozen food aisle or the oil change garage. All the sudden all the feelings come rushing in at once, and I’ll get all broody and sad and overabundantly glad for the four guys I’ve been given. It aches and my heart feels like an overfull water balloon. It’s good to be so full, but it hurts, too.
My favorite Christmas present when I was a little girl was this sweet little doll. It was dressed up in a gender neutral outfit, and when you opened the box there was a special package. You dissolved that package in water to find out if your baby was a boy or a girl. In a very special few packages the little girl mama was blessed with twins, and the toy company sent you another doll. I remember the giddiness I had, the anticipation to see if my baby was a boy or a girl, the joy I had naming that doll. And, I was one of those very special twin doll mamas. I got a twin baby girl to join my baby boy!
It’s those moments that I grieve the most when I think of the baby years coming to a close. It’s the finding out if the baby is a boy or girl (or boy, boy, boy, and boy!). It’s the heading the hospital because IT’S TIME. It’s the meeting the baby for the very first time, seeing them open their eyes to a brand new world.
I am a creator. It’s in me as much as the nose I inherited from my grandfather. I’ve seen it as the greatest adventure these past 6 years to take part in the creation of this sweet little family. I’m achingly sad now that there won’t be any more new creation, but growing and shaping the family that is here.
That is hard for a starter like me, one who gets joy from the genesis of things and struggles to see things through. I never feared getting this family started, but it haunts me that I won’t finish well…that I won’t know what to do down the road.
It’s opposite for my husband. He’s been the hand-wringer, the worry-bearer, the up-all-night-with-nerves partner. He’s been familiar with unknown for these six years, at unrest with each new addition. When I was all “Yippee! Another baby!”, he saw another child to shepherd and feed and provide for. Now, he’s entering his sweet spot as a parent. Where I’m all creator, he’s all coach. You should see him with these boys, he just somehow innately knows how to do what comes next.
And, last night in the ice-cream aisle at the grocery store, I had a moment of clarity.
The anticipation doesn’t end when you leave the hospital with your newborn. Where I was once excited to find out the gender of our baby, or anticipating what their birth would be like, now I get to wonder about them as men. Will they grow up to be businessmen, or pastors, or scientists? It’s like the longest gestation full of possibility and hope and wonder…with little clues left in little dissolvable packets to open up along the way.
What were once little reminder kicks in the belly are now little boys who are all arms and legs. They are in the flesh, right in front of my eyes. These boys reveal a little more of themselves to me everyday, and I’m overabundantly thankful.
