Two weeks ago, we gave away the stroller.
It's official--my baby days are over.
Deciding how many children to have is no small feat. For many of us, the choice isn't really a decision--just kind of something that happens (or doesn't happen) throughout the course of a decade or so.
Others of us sat down with a pad or paper and planned in detail when Baby A should come along, when Child #2 should follow, and that we'd conclude with Child #3 or 4.
My story is a little bit different.
Steve and I waited six years into our marriage before having children. Some people think that maybe we had trouble getting pregnant, thus why we turned to adoption. But no, three months after we deciding to give child-making a try, I was happily pregnant with Jonathan.
Neither of us had any plans at that time to adopt or do anything except raise this sweet, sensitive boy we'd been given.
But through a series of amazing events God got our attention. Soon it seemed normal to think, "One child is so typical--let's do something completely crazy and have another one, from the other side of the world, fast!"
So six-month-old Elijah followed from Liberia a year later. Two babies, but was that enough to stop us--heck, no!
Two years later, four-year-old Trishna joined the scene.
Then we finally caught our breaths, looked at each other and said, "Oh wow. This is a lot of work."
But neither one of us, even then, were really ready to call it quits. Over the three years since Trishna came home from India we've talked on and off about a fourth Martin addition.
At one point we thought it might be a teenager (yes, you read that right) from foster care. At times we thought one more biological child would be wonderful (I never got to have the home birth I always wanted, you see), and at others we've thought about another international adoption.
Finally, though, I feel at peace with "done." (Though fully aware, of course, that God loves surprises.)
When Steve and I gathered the baby stuff from the attic recently, to donate to a friend, we stood side-by-side for a few silent moments. Looking back, remembering--the infant swing, the Baby Bjorn Elijah was sick all over on the way back from Liberia, the blanket handmade for Jonathan.
It was impossible to imagine a diaper-free existence back then, but now I turn around to find that whole season--gone. I'm loving where we are, but wow, that went fast.
Some of you read this while baby drool runs down your shoulder, some so sleepy from a little's nightly escapades you're not sure you'll make it through the morning. Take a mental picture today--of the crib, the pacifier, the stroller.
Inhale and embrace all of it; revel in the season that is babyhood.
Pausing for one last stroller pic before saying goodbye to an era
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