N
newlywed8
Guest
I am in desperate need of some advice/prayers regarding my husband’s decision that we should not have any more children.
A bit of background. My husband and I have an age gap (he is 10 years older). We married when I in my mid 20’s, he in his mid 30’s. We have been blessed with 2 incredible children.
From the time I was a little girl, I always wanted a big family. I only have one sibling and always wanted to have like 5-7 kids. When I pictured my life, I imagined a religious, fun-loving family that enjoyed each other’s company, where the kids were all good friends, etc. In my very secular, liberal-area public school, I used to be teased that I would be a soccer mom driving a big minivan.
I communicated this picture clearly to my husband when we were dating. He used to (friendly) tease me about wanting to be like the Duggards (in the sense of many, homeschooled, happy kids).
When discussing children, we thought that 4 sounded like a good number. A little smaller than I had pictured, but more manageable for our finances/space.
My husband has since decided since our second was born that he is done. He feels too old to have more children (now early 40’s). He believes that when it comes to having more children, it should be a 2 yes, 1 no decision, and I agree. But this is absolutely killing me.
I cry as my youngest gets older and I find myself taking down baby gates and getting rid of pack-n-plays. I cannot believe that I am never going to have another baby. Obviously I knew that one day I would be done child-bearing, but I didn’t think that would be for a long time. My second has this incredibly nuturing nature and I just sit there and think about what a great big sister she would have been.
I am trying so, so, so hard to be at peace about this. To respect my husband. I pray about it constantly.
I focus on praying for internal peace. But, please, now I need all of your prayers. All of my friends are having more children, ours is the smallest family I know (baring infertility). I find myself having trouble feeling happy for friends when they announce new pregnancies, which I know is wrong.
What makes it even worse is just how many tricks my body keeps playing on me. No matter how well I ‘handle’ this during the first 2-3 weeks of each month, by the second week of the so-called two week wait, I find myself intensely analyzing every twitch, pain, etc that my body gives me, trying to see if this is the month that God granted us a miracle. I keep tellling myself that logically, I know I am not pregnant. Yet, somehow when the inevitable evidence arrives that I am not, I find myself experiencing a fresh wave of profound disappointment and resentment. During this most recent cycle, I was about a day late, which led to a day of thinking ‘maybe, just maybe’. This disappointment led to me swallowing my pride and writing this post for help.
I know I probably sound obsessed in this posting, and I promise that it is not all that I think about. I am just so tired of the up and down at the end of each month. I am just having trouble letting go of the dream that I held onto for over 20 years, and realizing that I am never going to have that. As my youngest gets ready to wean (I do very extended BF) and I realize that I am probably never going to nurse again, I just want to cry all over again.
Please pray for me, and any words of wisdom you have to share, I would love to hear.
Note-- I cannot really talk to my husband about it any more. He just does not understand and he has begun to become frustrated with my wanting to revisit the topic.
A bit of background. My husband and I have an age gap (he is 10 years older). We married when I in my mid 20’s, he in his mid 30’s. We have been blessed with 2 incredible children.
From the time I was a little girl, I always wanted a big family. I only have one sibling and always wanted to have like 5-7 kids. When I pictured my life, I imagined a religious, fun-loving family that enjoyed each other’s company, where the kids were all good friends, etc. In my very secular, liberal-area public school, I used to be teased that I would be a soccer mom driving a big minivan.
I communicated this picture clearly to my husband when we were dating. He used to (friendly) tease me about wanting to be like the Duggards (in the sense of many, homeschooled, happy kids).
When discussing children, we thought that 4 sounded like a good number. A little smaller than I had pictured, but more manageable for our finances/space.
My husband has since decided since our second was born that he is done. He feels too old to have more children (now early 40’s). He believes that when it comes to having more children, it should be a 2 yes, 1 no decision, and I agree. But this is absolutely killing me.
I cry as my youngest gets older and I find myself taking down baby gates and getting rid of pack-n-plays. I cannot believe that I am never going to have another baby. Obviously I knew that one day I would be done child-bearing, but I didn’t think that would be for a long time. My second has this incredibly nuturing nature and I just sit there and think about what a great big sister she would have been.
I am trying so, so, so hard to be at peace about this. To respect my husband. I pray about it constantly.
I focus on praying for internal peace. But, please, now I need all of your prayers. All of my friends are having more children, ours is the smallest family I know (baring infertility). I find myself having trouble feeling happy for friends when they announce new pregnancies, which I know is wrong.
What makes it even worse is just how many tricks my body keeps playing on me. No matter how well I ‘handle’ this during the first 2-3 weeks of each month, by the second week of the so-called two week wait, I find myself intensely analyzing every twitch, pain, etc that my body gives me, trying to see if this is the month that God granted us a miracle. I keep tellling myself that logically, I know I am not pregnant. Yet, somehow when the inevitable evidence arrives that I am not, I find myself experiencing a fresh wave of profound disappointment and resentment. During this most recent cycle, I was about a day late, which led to a day of thinking ‘maybe, just maybe’. This disappointment led to me swallowing my pride and writing this post for help.
I know I probably sound obsessed in this posting, and I promise that it is not all that I think about. I am just so tired of the up and down at the end of each month. I am just having trouble letting go of the dream that I held onto for over 20 years, and realizing that I am never going to have that. As my youngest gets ready to wean (I do very extended BF) and I realize that I am probably never going to nurse again, I just want to cry all over again.
Please pray for me, and any words of wisdom you have to share, I would love to hear.
Note-- I cannot really talk to my husband about it any more. He just does not understand and he has begun to become frustrated with my wanting to revisit the topic.