It shouldn’t feel like such a big deal, but the weight is so heavy. The sadness rolls in like a rushing river and the finality is like a death. The necessity of the surgery is pitted against the reality that never again will a little life live inside my body. There’s grief that needs to be felt and lamenting that will take place.
I’m the mom of seven fantastic humans. Not just any humans. They are the kids that God specifically chose for me and Tim. They are a gift, my legacy, and the people I’m responsible to God for. I’m so very grateful for every single pregnancy and I don’t take one for granted. I am fully aware of the partnership between God, my husband, and me in the making of life. Life is a gift and one I’ve been so thankful to carry.
Seven developing babies, 40 + 38 + 37 + 36 + 35 + 36 + 35 = 257 weeks.
That is the number of weeks I’ve had a little tiny baby developing in my body. With a huge smile stretched across my face I rejoice in the fact that five years of my life I’ve been growing babies. I was responsible to make sure I ate the right things, slept enough, and ultimately prepared the baby to be as healthy as possible on the day he or she would make their grand entrance into the world. Nothing compares to it.
Seven nursing little loves, 6 + 11 + 12 + 12 + 13 + 12 + 11= 77 months.
That is the number of months I’ve nursed my sweet little babies. Again, I’m so thankful that six and a half years of my life, I’ve had a little baby totally reliant on me for nourishment. As any mom knows, nursing requires a lot, and sometimes it feels like a much bigger commitment than being pregnant. There were times when I nursed simply because we couldn’t afford formula. Yes, I’ve heard the slogan, “breast is best” but nursing was often about sustaining life and helping to provide for my growing family. With several of my babies I had to stop nursing early because of work, school or physical limitations mandated it. But, like pregnancy, nothing compares to it.
For twelve years of my life, I’ve either been pregnant or nursing. Somehow it seems like a lot bigger of a commitment than it felt like at the time. My husband has taken the brunt of my exhaustion, joy, fear, frustration, tears (both happy and sad), and the myriad of emotions that come from being pregnant and nursing. Now that I think about it, he needs a metal. He loves us, so well.
Two years ago, I delivered my youngest daughter and she felt like the cherry on top. We were in total shock when we found out we were pregnant with her. I had an IUD in place and they are supposed to be 99.8% effective. I’m so thankful for the IUD failure or more accurately, the intervention of God. She arrived during an excruciatingly painful time and we couldn’t be more grateful for the joy she’s brought into our home. She brought hope and healing to our weary souls. In fact, every single kid brings something different at just the right time. Each kiddo adds their own flare and spunk, and ushers in a new season of reliance and trust on our creator. With every baby, I’ve realized my need for God and His sovereignty in their lives. Kids tend to remind us how desperate we are for Him, right?
After the birth of our last daughter, my husband and I had some tough conversations. He saw things I couldn’t see. He spoke honestly and together we decided that we’d reached our max. Having babies was taking a toll on my body, my ability to be emotionally and physically available to the kids we already have, and we knew we needed to be obedient as we walked into the next phase of our lives. The decision to stop having kids came a little harder for me. After all, nothing I’ve experienced in life has compared to pregnancy or nursing a sweet little baby: The good, the bad, the exhaustion, the sleepless nights, the happy cheers as they’ve crawled, walked and began to use their little voices to express their hearts —All of it. I’ve loved it all.
But, deep down, I knew God was right there as we made the difficult decision to {close-up shop} and He wanted me to see Him and trust Him through the process. Together, Tim and I ultimately want to have time, energy, resources and emotional availability to invest in each other, as well as these amazing kids God had already blessed us with.
So, two years later, I didn’t expect the grief, the tears, or the other emotions that flooded in when I began experiencing some symptoms (I’ll spare you the details) that required me to seek out medical care. After some testing, it became clear that I needed a hysterectomy and soon. My body had served my family in a way that is so invaluable. I was allowed the opportunity to grow a precious little life. Not once, but seven times. 257 weeks my uterus has had a baby in it. Gosh, what an absolute gift! I am so very grateful.
So why the grief? Why the lamenting? I sure as heck didn’t anticipate feeling sad about it. But I do. It’s so final. Like a death, I’m forced to grieve and walk fully into the next chapter whether I like it or not. So, as I sit here and write, it is less than a week before Thanksgiving (2018).
Tomorrow, Friday November 16th, I’m having a hysterectomy. Good thing I can type that word… Because it is almost unbearable to say. I’m having a hysterectomy. WTH?!
As tears flow down my cheeks, there’s a tremendous amount of grief, but I’m also so very thankful. I’m thankful for life, for babies, for the absolute gift of motherhood. Nothing compares. I’m walking into this next chapter not fully knowing or understanding what God has in store for our family in the future, but trusting him nonetheless. Babies have played such a huge part in our story.
Tim and I have been parents for eighteen years of our twenty years of marriage. Together with our kids we’ve walked through long deployments in the military, medical school, residency, huge loss and enormous success. We’ve experienced life, together!
There’s a verse that’s carrying me through this time of what feels like incredible loss. It’s the realization [that] all of our quivers carry a certain number of arrows. My quiver is full! And I for one, rejoice in the gift of life. I will continue to nurture, invest, and send out these arrows God has entrusted me with.
Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord,
the fruit of the womb a reward.
4 Like arrows in the hand of a warrior
are the children of one’s youth.
5 Blessed is the man
who fills his quiver with them!
He shall not be put to shame
when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.
Proverbs 127:3-5
So, to answer the question we are so often asked; Yes, we are done having kids.
Will you pray for my surgery? Pray for my family? For healing both emotionally and physically over the weeks and months to come? I’m so thankful for you and your love for my family.
~ Nicole
