Hellobee

Since giving birth to Fiona, and even when I was pregnant with her and out and about with Drake & Juliet, the big question I always heard was, “So you’re done now, right?” I get this a lot even from my own family, where the question comes off more as a statement rather than question. Truthfully I don’t get upset by this comment, as many people I know do, and the easiest answer seems to be simply saying yes, watching the relief wash over their face confirming their feelings. But the reality is what I say out loud to others and what I feel inside don’t always match up.

Growing up as an only child had a very deep effect on how I dreamed about the family I would hopefully one day have myself. When I met Mr. Chocolate in college it was an already well known that I wanted a big family with lots of kids, I used to say I hoped for nine. Growing up I felt so lonely all the time, the house was so quiet and I was left to my own devices for hours on end for years. As a little girl all I ever wanted was a sibling; someone to talk to, play with, and even commiserate with when I felt my parents were being unreasonable or unfair. It seemed like everyone in the world but me had a sibling. I dreamed of a loud rowdy home, similar to the one depicted in Home Alone (minus of course the forgetting the kid bit) filled with children’s laughter and screams of delight, artwork covering the refrigerator, and organized chaos in all areas of the house.

When Mr. Chocolate and I got married he was well aware of my hopes for family and like how it often is in our relationship, he found a way to temper my grandiose ideas with practicality and rationality as he always does. Mr. Chocolate always wanted to be a father after all; he just didn’t want to be a father to nine as it turns out.

When I was pregnant with Drake, I was so excited at the possibility of finally becoming a mother and creating the family I had hoped to have through all my girlhood dreams. The reality of Drake though after birth was quite a shock. Between the sleep deprivation, and weight loss/breastfeeding issues, Drake really traumatized me; for a short time I considered throwing all my ideas of a large family out the door and keeping him as an only child for my sanity. Mr. Chocolate, however, always wanted two kids. He would have been happy with just two, but he knew that I would one day look back and regret not having more.

After some time he eventually convinced me to try again for another and three years and two weeks after Drake’s birth, Juliet arrived. Before Juliet’s arrival I had a lot of apprehensions about the change from being a mom to one to a mom of two, partially because of the trauma of Drake’s first year, and partially because I was worried how a sibling would affect him, even though I had wished for this moment for so much of my own life. And then Juliet was born and we quickly adapted to a family of four. Juliet, for her part, was always much easier child than Drake had ever been, and once we had her, I knew I wanted more. The worries I had for Drake vanished when I saw how much he adored having a little sister, and Juliet would never know life without at least one sibling anyway. Mr Chocolate knowing about my childhood as well as the fact that I had lost a few cousins (whose siblings then became only children) agreed to have one more. I wondered how I ever could have imagined having nine kids; the thought of nine labors is enough to scare me out of it alone.

During my pregnancy with Fiona, I was very conscious that this was my last pregnancy, my last delivery, my last baby. From the moment Fiona was placed in my arms, I almost felt like I could feel time slipping away from me with every second, making her one more moment older and one step closer to the end of an era in my life. Fiona is only a month old now and that in itself seems so shocking… shocking that I survived a month of newborn sleep deprivation and that one month has flown by so fast. But now that we are here, I find myself honestly wondering am I really “done?”

Our lives for the last few years have been planned on the idea of three. Our house has enough bedrooms for each child, our car has enough space to accommodate them all, and truthfully our finances probably are best suited for one, but we will find a way. On days when all three are driving me crazy I can’t imagine adding one more, and if you catch me at a bad moment I might even offer you to take two, possibly three. In my heart I know three is what’s best, three is what we had planned for, three is what we can manage emotionally, financially, and physically. I’m not getting younger and I already feel pulled in all directions at times by the wants and needs of them all. In my mind I know that “we are done,” but my heart oh my heart… it’s still not sure.

Looking back at my lonely childhood I see those dreams: the chaotic but lively house, the teenage kids who miraculously all get along, the graduations, the engagements and weddings, the grandkids I’ll rock in my arms. In my heart I can see it, but in my mind I also see the toil it takes to raise those little kids into self sufficient, capable, kind adults. It’s like looking at a finished product without seeing all the time, energy, and work it took, the devotion and care that sucks every ounce of energy and strength out of you to create. When Fiona was born I thought, with all this foreseen knowledge, that I would feel done. That my ovaries would close up and my heart too to the idea of another baby. And yet a week after her birth in the dead of night while the rest of the house slept and I was the lone soul pacing the bedroom with a fussy baby fighting sleep, a small voice popped up that said “I think I want another one.”

I don’t know if I will ever feel “done.” Mr Chocolate has made it clear he is done, and on many days for all the aforementioned reasons I know we should be done. Perhaps “done” is a feeling that some of us just never have. What I do have though is three beautiful children, children who squeal at delight when they wake up and see one another, children who sit side by side in the car in their car seats, children who are messy and loud and chaotic, who make my heart swell and my brain implode seemingly at the same time some days. I have the dream I longed for since my childhood, and it’s every bit as fantastic as I thought it would be…most of the time at least. I’m blessed and I know it so for now while I may not be “done,” I think I can easily say my heart is content.

All my blessings together