hopes

We have discussed "leaving it to God" and moving in on my fertile window a day or two. Seeing if it would possibly give us the slight chance of getting pregnant, but only with a girl. After much research it seems the best way to try for a girl outside of a laboratory. We're still not sure if we will, because I don't want a 3rd so close in age. For example, if we were to get pregnant this cycle our toddler would be under 2 1/2. He's still mostly unintelligible nonsense. Our 4 year old was only a few months older when the baby was born. They fight like cats and dogs. 

My husband is also concerned that I would then want a 6th so She would have a playmate. I honestly couldn't care less about that. I was the 3rd wheel and had a rather peaceful childhood whole my close in age siblings were busy driving each other nuts. 

Jealousy

I scroll through Facebook and see a picture of an old friend's daughter. She's JUST learning to sit up. Cold, bitter, jealousy floods me for a moment. I never feel this way when my nearest and dearest have daughters. I was just happy for my bestie and cousin who had daughters, but jealous of an acquaintance who was due at the same time.bmy other best friend is expecting and waiting to find out gender, but I just want her to get what she wants (she really wants another girl) my husband says it would have a kind of symetry. Fore to have 4 boys and each of my best friends to have 2 girls. 

Anyways. I don't understand. Why do I feel jealousy at all? I have 4 beautiful sons and they are enough of a handful that the idea of another child makes me want to run screaming. I just wish that God would either give me reassurance that I will have a daughter some day, or let me know that "never" is true and accurate, not just the voice sobbing in the background of my mind. I feel that a final answer would help to accept this reality, rather than having a spark of hope that someday, somehow, I will have a daughter to call my own. 

Shades of Grey

As I sort laundry and put things away after our trip, I start pulling down items our youngest has outgrown. As I bag them up for donation there is a bitter sweetness to the act. Part of me is relieved to be pulling down items I have literally been storing for 8-10 years. All of these saved from when my oldest out grew them. There is such a relief in clearing out space. But at the same time there is an ache and pain of the last. The last baby. The last time these items will be worn. Be seen by our eyes. The last memories to be made in them. My heart desires a little girl, all our own, so even if she should one day materialize, these probably wouldn't have been hers. But it stings all the same. 

I can still remember holding tiny clothing items up to my belly, anxiously awaiting the arrival of my first, and the careful sorting of these items as I prepared for my second, third, and fourth. There are just so many memories attached to them. 

I do feel oddly lighter with them set aside for donation. Just as I did when I donated all the baby furniture last year. Part of me is so very ready to move on to the next stage in life. The one where I have deep meaningful conversations with my children as I teach them to read and write. Another part of me cackles at the image of my son with a tinkertoy hanging from his nose because he thought it was funny. And yet another part longs for those quiet moments in the deep of night feeling my child move inside my womb. Those moments of deep anticipation when I count contractions, is this the time? Those still moments holding my sleeping baby and stare into the face of life. A life we created. I suppose it's true then. Life is never truly black and white, but so many beautiful shades of grey that they all become muddled in the end. 

hmm

Today my husband mentioned that his grandparents had 6 kids. And how all of his family has at least 4. That it's not crazy for us to want more. He specifically added that he's not suggesting we have more. But. Why would he bring it up if he wasn't considering it? He knows how much my heart yearns for a little girl. Every time I think I've come to terms with it I get smacked in the face with thepain again. Sometimes it's a dress, or a doll. Sometimes its seeing a round pregnant belly. I'm just not ready for this season of life to be over and it kills me that it is. 

frustrated

I am not a perfect person or parent. I have many flaws. But I am also not the ONLY parent. 

Yesterday I very clearly told my husband that I had a project to work on and asked him to cook breakfast. You know, at noon since we all slept in terribly late. Then I worked all day on said project. And at 10 I discovered no one had eaten again. So I asked my oldest to please make hot dogs for everyone. This is not hard and required a microwave. I also got the baby a snack of cheese while he waited. This is beyond the lunch he gets just before nap time every day and did get yesterday. At 10:30 when it was discovered that our oldest had only made hotdogs for himself and no one else my husband went off on ME. First. You are their parent too. If you hadn't eaten and we're hungry you very well could have fed everyone again. Second. I told you I was going to dive into a big project and that you were in charge of the kids. So there is that. I did feel bad that I forgot to put dinner in the crock pot as I had intended because we slept so late. 

Fast forward to today. We ALL slept til after 11. No, we were not up all night, so I think we're all coming down with the cold our friends have. As soon as I was up and dressed I woke up the older boys and started cleaning up the kitchen. By 1 pm I had the first batch of pancakes coming off the griddle as well as dinner in the crock pot and a clean kitchen. It would NORMALLY be the baby's nap time but he just woke up at 11:30 when I woke him up. So he starts to fuss while the birth batch is cooling enough to eat. I flippantly say "I'm working on it shorty, I'd hate yo have to put you down for a nap before you get to eat." AS A JOKE IN A JOKING TONE. My husband had apparently just gotten up and starts going off on me for being mad at the baby when it's my fault he hasn't eaten all day. I woke him at 11 when I woke up and voiced how frustrated I was that I'd slept so late and he said "eh, it's vacation"

I informed him that I went to work as soon as I got up cleaning and cooking and he continues in on how it's my fault I didn't clean the kitchen the night before and how I'd been awake for 2 hours and should have at least fed him a snack. This is where I stop everyone and say "My baby will not eat when he first wakes up. For nearly an hour after waking he is a jerk about food. He's not hungry. I think he takes after me. Because I don't eat, usually for HOURS AND HOURS."  So he's finally hungry, just as I'll pulling food of the griddle, and I'm a bad mom for this?!?

Shut up. I'm not even joking here. I am furious. I hadn't even SAT DOWN since waking up at that moment. I had spent every single minute doing something productive. Dressing children, changing diapers, waking other children, doing dishes, starting both dinner and breakfast, cooking these items. What the hell????? 

I understand that he wasn't there to see me doing stuff, but he should have figured I was working on it considering I was literally standing there cooking at that moment. 

Rant over. 

If you made it this far, I'm surprised. I do get relief from being able to vent this way without complaining to family and friends about these things, because who even wants to hear about our petty issues when they arise? Here's hoping tomorrow we can go back to where we were YESTERDAY morning when we took time to share the things we loved and appreciated about each other.