When I started this blog several years ago, I was in my early 30's, wife to Jay and mom to one sweet 7 year old boy, who definitely filled my days, but also allowed me time to do a few things just for me... Like blogging. Since those days, my life has... for lack of a better word... Exploded. Our simple, manageable family of three became a family of six. Six! That's double, people! Double the grocery bill. Double the laundry. Double the noise. (Double your pleasure, double your fun...).
Quiet is non-existent in this house... And if there is ever even a small moment of silence, my reaction is panic. Someone must be playing in the toilet. Or trying to free the hamster. Or eating something they're not supposed to (something that may or may not actually be edible).
When I fall into bed at night, with equal parts joy and exhaustion (okay, not always EQUAL parts), I often find myself asking, "How did I get here?"
Well, here's the quick recap -
18 1/2 years ago, I married my camp sweetheart, who by the way, is totally still my sweetheart. 8 years into our marriage (and 6 years into trying desperately for a baby), we were incredibly blessed with the adoption of our son, Micah. For several years after that, we toyed with idea of a second adoption and never really stopped trying to get pregnant. Finally, about 3 1/2 years ago, we decided to see a specialist and give the whole thing one more good try, and lo and behold (I've literally never used that phrase before) - we got pregnant and had our #2 son, Asher. We were so blessed, so tired, and so done!
In the fall of 2013, my mother-in-law, who several years before had decided to leave her hometown with her hubby, get a little apartment close to us, and just move when we moved, was diagnosed with a devastating late stage cancer. Seven weeks later, just days after Asher's first birthday, she died. Not wanting Jay's dad to be alone, we made the decision to ask him to move in with us. So there we were...five Spaldings. Our home and hearts were very full.
About a year ago, we were relocated to a new town. A month or so into our time there, I started to feel sick. I was sluggish, nauseated, and crabby and I just couldn't seem to feel better. I made a joke to my husband that I was probably pregnant. He didn't like the joke. He suggested we buy a test. Now, as a woman who'd been hoping to be pregnant for most of her adult life, I'd probably taken 100 pregnancy tests and only ever had one positive (and confession - I already had a positive blood test with my doctor telling me I was pregnant when I took that one! I just wanted to see what it felt like to see that second line appear!). I told Jay that I couldn't possibly be pregnant and reminded him what our last OBGYN had said when I asked her if we needed to think about birth control - "Jamie, it took you 14 years of trying and medical help to get pregnant. I don't think you need to worry about it." (I demand a refund!)
We compromised that if I didn't feel better in a week, we'd get a test. Seven days later, we pulled into a Walgreens. I went home, took the test, saw that second line (felt a bit different this time!), and screamed at Jay from the bathroom to go buy more!
It took a while to adjust to the thought of baby #3, especially since he had the nerve to just show up without home studies and paperwork, without blood tests and hormone shots. We had to figure out where we would put him in the house, but we didn't have to make room in our hearts. It's like love just expands as needed. Son #3, Silas, will turn 3 months old this week.
So here I am, that poor barren woman, now in her later 30's, pushing a double stroller while walking beside my PRETEEN!
I am so very blessed and happy to share my story with you... But I gotta go for now because it's been kind of quiet for 12 minutes! I'm sure disaster awaits!