All Good Things Must Come To An End

Several weeks ago, my family and I were taking a day trip to escape the summer heat of Phoenix. As we passed by the beautiful scenery, I thought about the three little ones behind me and how incredibly blessed I was to have them. When they aren’t clinging to me or fighting with each other because they’re sleeping and confined to the back seat of the car, I start getting the warm fuzzies.

My mood turned a little melancholy as I thought about the fact that my family was now complete. My husband and I had decided before we even left the hospital with our newborn son, that he would be our last. For a variety of reasons, we were both in agreement that it was just time.

As we continued our drive through the mountains, I began to express to my husband how this huge chapter in my life was closing and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. He shrugged and said “I look at life as just one long story. There are no beginnings or endings to me.” He totally wasn’t feeling my whole book and chapter vibe and he’s not the type to get all sentimental. So, I just looked out the window and continued my deep thoughts.

Ever since I was a little girl, I dreamed of having children. How many would I have? What would their names be? What would they look like? Then when I became an adult the question of the day was when would I have children. Then when I had children, I thought about adding siblings. I’ve spent most of my life planning, plotting and dreaming about kids. And now, it was over.

I’m not sad about it really. It’s just kind of a weird feeling. I know exactly how many children I will have. Three. I know how many boys or girls I will have. And how far apart they will be. There is nothing more to be planned or anticipated. The baby factory is closed. With everything, there are pros and cons involving this next chapter of my life.

I will never have to deal with the baby stage again. No more staying up all night for 7-8 months straight. Or feeding an endlessly hungry little creature every 2 hours for days on end. I’m pretty excited knowing that in the next few years, all of my children will be potty trained, dressing themselves and increasingly independent. I will not have to worry about getting one kid semi-functional only to have to start from scratch again.

And truth be told, I never was a fan of being one of the oldest moms in the ob/gyn waiting room. With my last two, I felt like I was walking around with a scarlet letter: A for Advanced Maternal Age. I would cringe as the doctor would look at my chart on my first pre-natal visits and say “Oh, I see you’re thirty (cough).” And then I had to sit there as I was told all the health risks I might face because of my ancient, dusty eggs. Nope. Won’t miss that.

But I do have conflicted feelings as I close the door on pregnancy and childbirth. As difficult as they are, I will definitely miss the feel and smell of a baby against my skin. They are such sweet, innocent things. Especially since they don’t talk back or give you attitude. I will miss the joy and excitement of wondering whether the next one will be a girl or a boy; of watching my family continue to grow. And pregnancy. No, who am I kidding. I hated being pregnant. I was always sick and miserable from day one til the end of it. But yet, I still felt some weird twinge of something the other day when I saw a pregnant woman. I don’t know if that twinge was sadness or relief, but it was something.

Oh, and I never did get that daughter I wanted with my husband. But as he says, he only makes boys. And since he comes from a family of boys and the two children we have together are boys, he’s probably right. We would have most likely ended up as one of those families with 6 or 7 boys, still trying for that girl.

I always told my husband when we got together that I was willing to have children up until I turned 40. I know some women can get pregnant well into their 40’s, but I just didn’t want to be dealing with cranky teenagers in my house while I’m looking for my BENGAY cream and getting ready for Thursday night Bingo. Mission complete.

One day you wake up and realize you’ve accomplished most of the things you set out to do. Graduating from college. Owning a home. Marrying and having children. I guess I just have to dream up new dreams. I’m pretty good at that. 

So as I move on and focus on the raising of children instead of having them, I’d like to give a toast and a send off to my eggs as they grab their canes and head off into that great beyond of retirement. You all have served me well. Godspeed, little eggies! Godspeed. As for me, I’m going to go start getting rid of all the old baby crap I’ve been saving “just in case” and cry into a onesie.

Featured image by LMAP