I was done having babies. I had 4. I gave away my bassinet, baby sling, baby bath, bottles and sterilizer, and the 10 years worth of little girl clothes I had been saving from my eldest daughter's wardrobe in hopes that she might have a sister. I gave away all the cute maternity clothes I had accumulated (as well as the not so cute ones I was happy to part with). I felt content with my brood, and happy to spoil my latest son as the "youngest" for the rest of my days.
Then I had this dream. I had prayed that night before going to sleep that I would be able to find my daughter's two missing leotards which she needed in order to attend dance class. In my dream, instead of missing leotards, I had missing children, and when I woke up, I realized how much more tragic it would be if there were children I was meant to have, but never did. I opened myself up to the idea, and prayed that if it was meant to be, that it would be obvious enough that I could set aside my firm resolution that I was done.
It was pretty obvious. The signs started flooding in, and I had to laugh. Someone really wanted to join our family!
So I took a deep breath and said, "Okay." Now here I am, about 10 weeks along, feeling extremely sick and having some reservations, but confident, at least, that this was the right choice.
I just hope I don't have to do this ever again.
And just as a footnote, I'm not likely to blog much over the next little while, especially not so long as I feel like this. I need to focus on other things :)
