One more

It was mid-January and we were at Chris and Kari's Cove house for a long weekend. The kids were all asleep and the adults were sitting on the freezing cold patio, in ridiculous-looking wearable blankets, drinking and chatting. The topic of having more children came up and Ty casually mentioned he'd "have one more," as if that were a totally normal thing to say in a conversation. 

Backing up a few years, Ty wasn't overly enthusiastic about having a third child but agreed to it in order to fulfill the desires of my heart. Therefore, the idea of a fourth was never something I considered. From conception to birth, to babyhood, I knew each stage with Hazel was my last. When she was born, I felt whole and complete. When she stopped sleeping in her crib, I got rid of it the next week. Pregnancy, birth, breastfeeding, baby phase; done, done, done, and done. 

And now here we are, multiple White Claws deep when my husband reveals the possibility of a sequel I'd never seriously considered. I laughed it off at that moment, but spent the subsequent weeks really, truly evaluating whether or not I wanted to have a fourth child. 

Turns out, I don't. 

Which both surprises me and gives me a deep sense of peace. I have spent my entire life loving little people and dreaming of being a mom. I am incredibly grateful for my three kiddos and the completeness I felt after I delivered Hazel remains. I have everything I could ever want or need. While the idea of another baby certainly pulls at my heartstrings, truly leaning into the ones I've already got resonates in my soul. 

To be clear, there are no lists that make having a child the right or wrong choice. As I write out my feelings on why growing our family isn't right for us, I know none of these things would actually matter if I found out I was pregnant tomorrow. That being said, I spent enough time considering logistics that I want to detail them here. 

The dynamic between our three kids is so, so great that doing anything to alter that doesn't sit well. The relationship between the three of them individually and as a trio is everything I could hope for. We had them all two years apart very intentionally so that they'd be able to experience childhood together. Having another now would make the youngest four years after Hazel and nine years younger than Owen. The current three are able to do most things together and the little one wouldn't be able to participate in the same way. Had I known earlier on that having four was a possibility, I would have had two, waited 4-5 years, and had two more. 

Hazel is going to start prekindergarten in the fall and for the first time in nine years, I will have regular, scheduled time to myself. In terms of parenting little kids, this is the finish line and while these milestones are always bittersweet, I'm not looking to start over when I've just arrived. Time for photography, reading, group exercise classes, long walks and coffee dates are within my reach.

It's true that the days are long but the years are painfully short. I think there is something in all of us that will always ache for the sweet scent of a newborn, but no matter how many kids we have, that stage will never last. I made a commitment early in motherhood to consciously resist lamenting my kids' growth and fully lean into each stage. The possibility of adding to our family reaffirms my dedication to that. 

Finding ways to nurture and support littles' has always been a part of my story; from helping with neighbor kids at an unusually young age to my career in pediatrics, my dedication to loving on babies stretches beyond my biological ones. I have a feeling new opportunities for this will eventually come into the light. 

As for now, I'm here for school-age parenting and gearing up for living with teenage boys. This little family of mine means everything to me.