Monday, October 13, 2014

Join me...

Grab your favorite mug and join me for another lesson.

This time I am not going to talk about a bible verse. Instead I want to focus on what happens during church. A world I was never a part of until I had kids. Going into the cry room (nursery for some).

A cry room is a little room, in the back of church, with a window so those in the room can still see and hear what is going on, but the rest of the congregation can't hear you or your kids. This little room is pretty basic. A few chairs, books, flat pillows, a mirror, and some very good words of wisdom on the walls.

I don't have to go in this room very often because on most days both the boys sleep through service. (kind of handy, but not at all intentional) But this week our youngest thought it would be a good time to voice his opinion whenever it got quite. Not mad, not crying, just wanted to talk...very loudly.

As I entered the room I saw another family was already in there. 4 kids and their mom. When the children's service was over the rest of her clan joined us. Now there were us 2 moms, and 8 kids. Then another mom and her little 1 joined us.

It was very crowded and my child was watching the other kids, intrigued by all the voices and movement. He even seemed to be flirting with one little girl. With all of the commotion it made it very hard for me to concentrate on the sermon. So I just watched and pondered.

I loved seeing the 7 siblings interact with each other and my child. One of the older boys was very sweet to my son. He showed interest and wanted to play with him even though he was clinging to me. The boy asked me questions and was very good and making small talk with me. The younger ones played. It seemed ok for the sisters to pick on each other but when a boy did the same thing, the girls would cry. It really got me thinking about our family.

I had only ever wanted 2. My hubby wanted a whole baseball team. With us having so many issues trying to conceive and dealing with infertility, I didn't know if we would ever have kids. Then we finally got pregnant, but was really late to the game so having a big family is not in the cards for us. Then when we found out that I was a carrier of this rare genetic disorder, I didn't know if I wanted more then just the one. I am glad that we have both boys, but the second pregnancy was almost scarier then the first because I was anticipating something to go wrong.

People ask us if we are going to have more children. I, jokingly say that we might after I get 2 years of solid sleep at night. The truth is, I don't know. Both pregnancies were hard for this not-even-5-feet-tall girl. Both were laced with a ton of worry. After Noelie was born our life was so crazy, I don't know if I can go through it again. All of the stuff that he needs, all of the doctor appointments, all of the people that come into our home to help take care of him. I just don't know if I can do it again.

I also think about our "healthy/normal" son. Is it fair to him? He may be like an only child. Will he grow up and want to take care of his brother if anything happens to us? Is it fair to even ask him to care for his brother? How old will he be when we lay his brother in the ground? If we don't have more children, he will have no other siblings.This thought makes me sad.

I don't have the answer to any of these questions, and I don't have it figured out. All I do know is that I love the 2 we have, and that is enough for now. And I will keep praying about it.

I am wondering though, How did you decide to have more? Was it even a question at all, or did you just know that you wanted more? Did you stop after you had one special needs child? Why did you stop? Was it our of fear from your previous experience? Have you adopted a special needs child? Will you adopt more? How do you handle more then one? How do you sleep and not worry? How do you keep track of everything? I would love to hear your thoughts on this. Thanks


  1. You have to be the parent every child deserves, disabled or not. You have to stay positive and focus on what you can do instead of the things over which you have no control. Yes, I was panicked when I became pregnant 5 years after Elisabeth was born. I was already 40 years old. Elisabeth required 24 hour care. How could I bring another child into this crazy life of ours? Somehow, it worked. I don't know how, maybe by the good grace of God. Who knows? Maybe my faith had something to do with it. I think so.

  2. I think our faith has gotten us this far and will continue to guide us. Some days I just wonder.