Family Planning

When you first get married (or maybe even when you're engaged), there is one question you will get over and over and over again: "When are you going to have kids?"

Once you become pregnant and actually give birth to that long-awaited child, a new question will rear its ugly head: "So when's the next one coming?"

Never mind that asking this question is, really, a pretty stupid thing to do. You never know what a couples' journey toward (or feelings about) parenthood may be. At the worst you are opening a deep wound, and at best you're being nosy and putting your friend/relative in an awkward spot.

Still, we all ask the question. I don't know why we do it, but we do it. Maybe because those of us who are parents want others to share in our joy (and our misery). Maybe because we want nieces or nephews or grandkids. Maybe just cause it's the thing you ask a couple. I don't know.

Lately this question has started to wear on me because of the answer that I have to give: I don't know. I don't know when the next one is coming. I don't know if there will ever BE a next one. And when I think of the reasons and compare pros and cons, I end up even more confused and anxious than when I began. There are arguments on both sides that make logical sense, and there are very real, very strong emotions pulling me in opposing directions. It is hard to make sense of it all, and to be patient and faithful.

I am learning of the ripple effect that an unplanned pregnancy can have in your life. Long after we have adjusted to the idea of parenthood, and to parenthood itself, we are still sifting through the rubble of our "plan".

The handful of times that I had imagined myself as a mother, I imagined it after school and work, maybe in my late twenties or early thirties. I had envisioned quitting my job to stay home with one, or two, or maybe even three reasonably spaced children. I pictured myself running errands while they were in school. Maybe doing some gardening in our backyard or taking the dog to obedience class.

I know it sounds really selfish to be mourning the loss of that dream, especially since I have a beautiful daughter and I am one of the few women who is blessed to be able to be a stay at home mom. In this day and age, that is truly rare. But I can't help continuing to feel a slight loss at how life has played out.

Let me explain: I am rapidly approaching a time which I feel like justifies a reasonable age gap between children. Like, if everything had gone according to plan, and we had a three or four bedroom house and a backyard, we might be able to think about filling up another one of those bedrooms. Maybe. But instead I feel overwhelmed by the concept; physically, emotionally, financially unprepared for another child, and a little disheartened by the reality, which is that we are nowhere near that place that I wanted to be, hoped I'd be, when my first child was walking. I may be looking for a job soon, and those extra bedrooms and that backyard seem like an impossibly distant dream.

So, what's the big deal with that, really? Why can't your kids be spaced five or seven years apart. Even ten? I know in my brain that this is totally reasonable, but I guess- I don't know- I had just thought that I could do it at once, that my kids would go to high school together and play games and be friends and that I would capitalize on their overlap. Five years seems like such a long time to wait to basically repeat everything I have just gone through.

I know to a lot of you that seems silly, and controlling, and maybe it is. I know that I can't express in words how I have been feeling, but the lie that you have been told by society- they call it "Family Planning"- is a difficult bubble to have break. I envisioned parenthood being a much clearer road than this, and I had hoped we'd feel prepared to embark upon it. What does it say that 14+ months in I still feel totally unsure about doing it over again?

The hardest part of all is the unknown, the terrible dangling possibility, the door that you can't shut. It's like standing forever at a fork in the road, just staring at the signs. I can't say with certainty that I'll have another child. But I also can't say that I won't. I can't even know when we will be ready to make that decision.

I don't know why the unknown, the openness, is so disconcerting for me. It could be that with so many other unknowns in life, this is just something that I want to control in my own way. I have struggled and struggled with surrendering this to God and have repeatedly failed. Somewhere deep in my heart I've tried to look ahead to the futures that are open to us and they seem right. Part of me says that there is no right or wrong time for children. That squeezing our kids into a bunk bed and living ten more years in this condo can work, and can even be beautiful. Another part of me says that I need to surrender some of my own dreams and plans to be responsible... to be patient and wait until the time is right. I can do this again in five years, or seven years, or ten years, when God tells us that it is the right time.

Lastly, there is the part of me that wants to close the door on this possibility and pour all my love and ministry into the amazing family God has already blessed me with. This idea is the one that confuses me the most, because that suggestion sends a shock of overwhelming emotions cascading through my body: disappointment and relief; grief, but also a beautiful and attractive sort of finality.

The more I think on this, the more I wonder if grief may always be a part of this process. There is the initial grief and loss of things not going your way, and there will always be the grief of choosing not to have more kids (no matter when you stop). That is a weird kind of grief- like mourning someone you have never met- but also, in a way, it is kind of like mourning a loss of self, a loss of the ability to carry life or to mother again. I envy women who have the opportunity to "try" to get pregnant. I can't imagine the joy of getting the news that you are going to have that baby you have dreamed and hoped and prayed for. It must feel so different to walk around with that pregnant belly full of someone you are just dying to meet.

Just so you know, I'm aware of how crazy (and maybe even offensive) that sounds. I know there are women everywhere who are dying to be in my shoes, who have tried for years or have lost children in the womb. I can't imagine that either, but for my part, I feel like with Kisa I was robbed of some of the joy and expectation of pregnancy. I want to experience that. But that in and of itself is not enough of a reason to have more children, and when I think that Kisa's may have been my only experience of pregnancy, I feel a sense of loss.

Without a doubt, parenthood has shaken me and reminded me, again and again, that God is in charge of me and not the other way around. However, none of it is for the reasons I had imagined. To think that something as personal as motherhood is actually completely out of your control (despite what we may call our contraceptives) is the biggest knock to my pride I could have imagined.

I struggle with how to end this long wave of emotion because I cannot tie up any of my loose ends. I can't pretend like sharing this has clarified anything, rather I feel like it has rubbed me raw. Instead of hiding this I have chosen to share what I think many will find silly, or crazy, or over dramatic. In writing I can recognize my own failure to communicate the gravity or depth of my feelings, but I cannot reconcile the two.

So with that, I'll end.

Fleas

What I am about to say is likely going to incur the wrath of my husband and without a doubt that of my extended family, but in the interest of openness and honesty here it comes:

I have discovered that I do not particularly enjoy being a pet owner.

I think it has something to do with both the disposition of our cat and the plethora of medical problems he has had in the last year or so. And maybe also that since I have become a mom caring for him has become primarily my responsibility instead of Matt's.

I think I used to kind of enjoy Zeus when I was pregnant and had lots of time but didn't have to take care of him at all. I have a handful of memories of us cuddling and even once showing some of my coworkers pictures I had taken of him on my phone. But that is the only time in the history of my relationship with Zeus that I remember our bond progressing even slightly beyond mere tolerance.

Even though I feed him, water him, change his litter box, pet him, play with him, let him sleep in our bed, clean up his puke, give him medicine, take him to the vet and even cuddle him on occasion (when HE allows it) my reward from him is usually a hiss or a bite. Lately, he's even batted at/bitten Kisa once or twice, which makes my blood boil.

Soooo. His most recent thing is fleas, which I am terrified of. After we found one flea on him I literally have spent the past 2 1/2 days scrubbing our house and washing everything in sight. I haven't seen a flea anywhere else besides on him or dead on the floor, but I am panicked by the idea of little bugs crawling around our house biting us and laying sick eggs. Even I can see that I am slightly over-reacting (I'm pretty sure the pros aren't as thorough as I have been) but I don't care. I don't want a flea-infested house or cat.

Anyway, in the midst of all of this, I have felt about 10% bad for Zeus and about 90% annoyed. I feel bad saying that, because you are supposed to love your pets, right? But I was not raised to have familial-type love for animals and having an actual child makes everything relating to the cat seem so much less important.

Now... before you judge. Please re-read the list of things I do for him. I do everything for this cat. I am the one who notices when he is sick and does something about it. Were it not for me, I doubt we would have noticed the flea situation for at least another week until they started to attack us or multiply out of control. So... it's not like I ignore him or neglect him. I'm not mean to him. But I have begun to think of him as the "weird uncle" of our family, the one you just have to tolerate because he's in your family whether you like it or not.

Zeus is one of the not-so-small things I have compromised on out of love for my husband, and in the last several years I have not complained much about him, so maybe it's just reached a pressure point or something. Regardless. It feels good to have gotten it off my chest.

Lastly, to my dear family members: let me just clarify that I am not saying I hate all animals. I enjoy your pets from a distance, similar to the way that one enjoys being an aunt or uncle but doesn't want to be a parent themselves.

It has been way too long since I have written a blog. Life has been busy- but that is nothing new.

So what is new? Kisa is now walking, and I have to say, I am loving it. Every parent in every grocery store over the past 13 months told me that when my daughter started walking my "life would be over". Well... whatever you say, crazies. It is fun to watch her take so much joy in her ability to move around. She gets so excited sometimes that she will run up and down the hallway just for the sheer joy of it. That is always fun to watch, and in terms of getting into stuff, IMO, it really makes no difference if your kid is crawling or walking. Either way they require constant supervision!

I am finally entering the phase of parenthood that I most anticipated: toddlerhood. I know I am flying blind here, so all you seasoned parents might be shaking your heads at my naivete. I'm sure discipline, potty training, and the terrible twos will give us a run for our money, but all in all, I am enjoying watching my daughter grow. There are so many new things we can do now that she is walking. We have been "exploring" the area around our condo every afternoon. She is a very tactile little girl, and she is interested in all the different textures found outside (grass, flowers, rocks, dirt, pavement). I have never seen anyone so fascinated by anything in my life (except maybe Elmo). I am looking forward to taking her to the park, the pumpkin patch, and the Children's Museum. I am sure we'll be making a trip back to the zoo soon, now that she and Matt can move on their own and she has a little more patience for finding animals.

Another great thing about this age is that we don't have to tote so much stuff with us when we leave the house. Kisa can eat and drink real people food... soooooo nice. She can even use a straw to drink out of a regular cup if there's no sippy cup on hand. It really makes life a whole lot easier at mealtime, since she can self-feed and chew things up... no more preparing special meals and less of cutting things into tiny pieces. I'm loving that!

In other news, I'm back on the WW wagon and running 5-6 days a week. It's been good for me both physically and mentally to have some "alone time" every morning. We have a jogging stroller so Kisa joins me on my runs, but she is content to sit in her stroller pointing out birds, cars and squirrels the whole time, which leaves me free to think. Initially I had planned to not exercise on the weekends, but I've been finding that I miss the routine and the exercise on Saturdays and Sundays, so I usually sneak a shorter walk or jog in on those days as well.

Over the past month I've lost 9 or 10 pounds. I'm not to my goal weight, but I have been sticking to my diet and exercise and that's what's important to me. Matt is fond of telling me that weight is a poor measurement of fitness anyway... when your body is replacing fat with muscle you can be in better shape at a higher weight.

Finally, in 9 days Matt and I will be hopping on a plane to Southern California for a 5-day trip (it will be the first time we've been away more than two days together since our honeymoon, and our first trip without Kisa). Matt is going to be in his friend's wedding, and we'll be hitting up Disneyland for the first time in Matt's life, so it should be a really fun weekend.

It is actually really cool how planning this whole trip has played out. We live on one income and we don't have a whole lot of money, so we were stressed about the cost. With airfare for two people and four nights in a hotel, plus meals and tickets to Disneyland, it would have been a crazy expensive trip. We finally decided to just put on a happy face and try to enjoy it (since most of the expenses were unavoidable anyway).

I feel like God has been blessing us a bit though, because this is something that we REALLY need and I have seen the way he has orchestrated events so that we're now able to take the trip without blowing a huge chunk of our savings.

First, we found out we had some frequent flyer miles that we were able to use to buy a ticket for Matt. Then, his friend offered to get us into Disneyland for free on our second day down there. Finally, another friend offered to let us crash at their place for the whole trip! So now I'm feeling like we can enjoy our trip without feeling guilty about spending money we shouldn't be. Isn't God good?

I'm sure I have more I could blog about, but as usual I'll cut this short so I can get back to my mommy duties. :)