Even as I write this, I’m still in awe that it’s how I feel. When I think back to my darkest moments of desperation and fear, I never thought this would be a post I would write.
I’d like to think it comes from pure and utter faith in God and complete relinquishment of my addiction to control. But, to be honest, I’m sure some of it stems from the exhaustion of not only parenting on the physical level (the act of actually being a parent) but also on the emotional level (ie: the thought process behind parenting and worrying about your child and their future).
I do not have baby fever.
In the last month, two wonderful friends have brought home
beautiful gorgeous breath taking baby boys, and I have been so fortunate as to get to have sweet, precious new-born snuggles with each of them. And while I’d have love to have held on to these little boys for much longer and continued snuggling them, I was quite content to hand them back to their mama’s and be on my way- without that longing for a newborn of my own.
This was foreign to me.
Now, please don’t mistake this as me saying I don’t want kids (I mean we’re only like dipping-our-toes deep on our adoption process for baby #2 from Colombia). This is me saying I’m 100% content with my life right now. This is me saying, “I trust in the Lord’s plan for my family”. This is me saying that while I’d love a house full of kids, my daughter is SO amazing that if she’s the only child the Lord chooses to bless me with, my cup will continue to runneth over.
Maybe a part of this contentment also comes from the struggles I watched first hand both of these mama’s go through. I was so blessed as to host my dear friend Beth and her husband while they patiently waited for their little man T to arrive. Beth and Brandon adopted their little boy from an agency located in my home town (they live about 1500 miles north-east). I watched them experience the emotion’s of adoption (on all sides) and even though E’s adoption was well over a year ago, at times I felt like we were reliving it all over again. It was hard, and watching it from the outside was hard too. Because just like when we were living IN it, there was nothing I could do, but pray and be there as best I could.
Taylor’s little man came after an emotional and grueling 39 week pregnancy. And while in the end everything worked out in the best possible outcomes, that poor mama visited hell and back (a couple of times) in the duration of her pregnancy.
Or maybe, it’s because I know what’s on the other side. While being a parent is the most amazing purpose I’ve ever had, and one I treasure and value above any other purpose I’ve had- it’s hard work. The emotional and physical demands of parenting are intense and brutal at times, and while I love and adore my daughter, and cherish the memories we’ve made, the idea of newborn feeding and sleeping schedules aren’t ones that make me want to jump right back in that ring.
Don’t get me wrong, if we found out tomorrow that we were miraculously pregnant, I’d be over joyed. Or if another adoptive situation fell into our laps, I’m sure I’d jump at the opportunity to bring another child into our family. But right now, in this moment, I can absolutely and confidently tell you that baby fever is not even a thought for this mama.