To know when your family is complete

How do you know? Do you just... know?

Do you just wait? Wait and see what God hands you? Wait until you're children are grown into teenagers and are finishing high school?

How do you know?

I've got 2 children. A boy and a girl...and a dog. The "Million Dollar Family" is mine. Life seems to just work. A child for each of us to be "in charge of". Two car seats in the back and breathing space. We don't need a minivan. We have just enough seats around the dining room table. When we go to a restaurant, most tables are made for four. We have a three bedroom house, perfect.

But are we done? I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not.

My husband has recently asked me if he should go get "fixed". We've talked about it before James was born and he agreed that when it came time he would go. But I told him no. We are young, our children are young. What if?

Do we ever really know? I think some people, somehow, know. I don't know how, but after one child they seem to be done. At least for a few people I know this has been the case. And they were so sure that they already went to extreme measures to ensure that they were done.

Babies are beautiful little beings. Amazing and sweet and so very soft and then they are not babies anymore. They come with so many responsibilities and before they are even born your agenda is full. Your life is full and busy. But it goes by so quickly. They are on their own and independent far longer than they are in your arms or in your home.

It's the sad reality of raising human beings. You don't get to keep them.

I think it's easy enough to just say, for now, our family is complete. Our family is just right.

And really, I think that's all you can say, unless you take precautionary surgical measures to ensure there will be no more children.

It's a tough question. People ask me and I reply, "Probably. Maybe. I think so. ....I don't know." I am happy. So very happy and busy and euphoric with the two little beings I have. They are the only little people that are half of me at this point and unless another baby "happens". We are complete.

How do/did you know when your family is complete?

To my future self, re: kids, remember.

Dear future Megan,

Remember looking at that positive test. The joy?

You do good during pregnancy. You are one of the blessed few who doesn't get morning sickness. You actually gain weight in the first trimester. Up until the baby starts pushing on your bladder and making it hard to put socks or shoes on, or hard to breathe, you're golden. You're tired though. Real tired. Imagine the exhaustion while pregnant with two children running around. You'd pull through.

Remember the first time hearing that quick little heartbeat. The ultrasounds? The good news, and bad news. Remember the feeling of finding out the gender? Remember sharing it with your husband. His joy. How about picking out names? That's always hard, and fun. Remember the baby showers? Getting ready for baby's arrival. Washing and folding the tiniest and cutest clothes a human could ever wear.

Remember the anxiety leading up to birth, it's scary man. But remember?... God was with you and He helped you through it.

Remember those contractions. Those ones right near the end. The death grip on the hospital bed rails, your husband's hands. But remember?...It was over so quickly. So quickly.

Remember the urge to push, and how intense it was. Remember?...It was fantastic.

Look up, you remember seeing that baby come out. Remember the holding? The warmth. The relief. The presence of God. You did it. And just like that, it's over.

And you're home. Recovering. With you're new baby.

Remember the learning to breastfeed, both of you. Remember?...that special, unique bond?

Remember the first week home. The (literally) painful sleepless nights. But remember?...Everyday is a new day, a new accomplishment.

Remember adjusting to having two children. Splitting your time. Missing the time with your older one(s). Remember?...There's always a way to make it work. Be patient.

Oh, remember. The smell. That sweet, clean, milky, new baby smell. Remember how quickly they grow and change.

Remember, a baby doesn't last long. Shortly after - you have a child not a baby, in school. Learning to take on this world all on their own. Remember the little attitudes. The not-listening, the whining. The children all crying at once(!!). Remember laughing at it though? Remember your lack of patience. Remember, you have no idea what their teenage years will be like. One day when you're about to make a very big decision, and you can't think clearly, come here. The good, the bad, the ugly. You know what I mean. Talk to God and just pray. He will guide you, He'll let you know whether it's the right decision or not. He's always in control, He knows. Trust Him.

But just remember. The love. That multitude of love.

Silence. It Really is Golden.

There's no doubt about it, a baby is exhausting. A baby and a three-and-a-half year old? Even more so. I love doing things with my whole family or just a game of Ponies or colouring with Leah, and its such a good time. Making silly memories. Loving on each other. And at the end of the day, rubbing your eyes, sighing with defeat relief.

Where most people look forward to weekends, I look forward to Monday-Friday (recently anyways). While Matt is on day-shift I get to wake up with Leah and James and get her off to the bus stop for school. (Our mornings go so much better than our nights around here.) After that, I come home and relax, or clean, or cook, or write, or relax, or read, or nap, or relax. And its quiet. So quiet. Besides when James is whaling to be fed. But for the most part, quiet. I even leave the TV/music off for the majority of the day. And just listen to the beautiful sound of nothing. It's golden. And I appreciate and need this time so bad. To collect my sanity, breathe, soak up all my squishy newborn-ness that soon won't be so newborn but baby.

I started to think about all of this earlier this morning and felt a twinge of guilt. Maybe because I get to enjoy all this and its without Leah and Matt. And Matt doesn't get to enjoy this. Not like I do anyway. Everyday though, we squeeze in Mommy-Leah time, Daddy-Leah time, and Mommy-Daddy time, so we're really not doing all that bad.
 

When Sunday rolls around, I may be bone-tired to the point of speaking improperly and not making any sense (I recently said "I'm putting James in the closet." rather than "I'm putting James in his car seat.") but the weeks are flying by and we're getting into the groove of this family of four thing. And I'm kind of loving it.