I had my first son when I was 17, but then I didn’t have #2 until I was 22. My seventh baby was born 3 days after my 32nd birthday. We never tried to conceive, the babies just came. My husband deployed for a year when #7 was eight months old and our entire neighborhood joked about #8 being born as soon as dad gets home. But…three years of trying and no #8 was coming. We were heartbroken, but thankful we had seven great kids. We stopped trying, I quit charting, stopped wishing and praying, got rid of most of our baby gear, and started looking at the next phase of life–baby free days and someday grand children. Seeing other people’s babies no longer hurt my heart. Imagine our surprise when #8 decided to come after 5 years–3 trying and 2 more after giving up. We joke that she just wanted to make sure she got all new things instead of hand-me-downs and had people old enough to spoil her. It’s easy for people to think that just because I have a lot of kids that I can’t understand the pain of infertility. I can honestly tell you that the misery I felt when I could not conceive for so long has made me appreciate being a mom and has helped me to realize how huge a blessing motherhood really is. Aside from the 5 year gaps in between my first two and again my last two children, I have also miscarried eight children. I remind myself on the tough days when the house is crazy that I prefer little monsters to angels because angels don’t stay around for very long. I have no idea if we will have more kids or if we are through. My health is not so great right now, but if God chooses to bless us again I’m sure He will provide. I was told I wouldn’t be able to carry a few of my other kids, but they are here with us. It is better for me if I don’t chart and just leave it in His hands.
