You're Pregnant? Seriously? I Thought You Said You Were Just Having "My Three Sons"

So, I'm pregnant and the word is officially out now.  The most common reaction from friends and family has been shock and amazement.  I can't say that I blame them since I have always contended that I would only have three kids.  I never saw myself as a Mom of four, but I guess when you open your heart to what else God might have for you rather than the perfectly planned-out life that you have set up for yourself, plans can change.  Before you think this baby was a surprise, think again.  Due to my advanced maternal age this baby actually took longer to...initiate...than the other three combined.  You're probably thinking now, "What?  You actually planned to have a baby after Gavin started kindergarten."  Not exactly, but that's the way God's perfect timing is working in this situation.  Let me go back in time a little bit for you to give a better explanation.

If you're looking for a tangible reason for this change in my heart your finger could be pointed down to one person.  Her name is Grace and she is 2 1/2 years old.  Here's a picture of her.

My husband might not have put two and two together yet but I have.  You see, Grace's parents came to our church as our Student Ministries pastors when Grace was only about a month old.  We interviewed them when Dawn was great with child about 6 weeks before Grace was born.  I'll be honest, and it's nothing against Grace, but I was not nearly as enamored with her as someone else.  I was still holding strong to my belief that God had given me three healthy boys and I would be content, and was content, to be their Mom.  Lindy, on the other hand, was smitten.  And so started the endless procession of people coming to me with, "You know Pastor Lindy would like to have another baby, don't you?" or "Pastor Lindy just loves little Grace.  I think he would like to have a little girl."  This went on for about a year or more and I never took anyone seriously.  I was still holding hard and fast to My Three Sons.  Grace's parents didn't help matters because they both said they just knew I would have another baby.  Of course, this is coming from two people who only have two kids and only will have two kids--unless God plans different.  I had even tried to broach the subject with Lindy about doing something to permanently fix the possibility of having more kids.  He wouldn't hear of it.  After multiple excuses, eventually the reason he gave was that he was too young for that.  OK...yeah.

So, on we went with him hinting around and me very closed to the idea until last summer.  I had lunch with my good friend Crista, who just so happens to also be one of my employees.  Crista is a counselor and she also counsels me, maybe unwittingly, when we go to lunch.  You see, when you're a pastor's wife and expected to be the one with all the answers you need someone like Crista in your life to talk to and help you find answers.  I don't remember our exact discussion but I know by this point I was considering it but only if this baby would be born prior to August 1, 2011.  What??  (That's the cut-off date for school enrollment in Missouri and I was only interested in having another baby if it meant he or she would be able to start school in five years instead of six.  I know, I'm crazy neurotic).  Crista just casually mentioned, "Well, that doesn't give you much time does it--about 4-5 months."  At that moment, since I had put this stipulation on conception timing I knew it was now or never.  I was the poster child for fertility having conceived Gavin after only one month, so I figured once I told Lindy it would happen pretty fast.  When it didn't happen in 4-5 months and I mentioned to Lindy that we had reached my deadline, he said, "Well, you said that was your deadline.  That didn't mean I agreed to it."  I went back and told Crista and she reminded me that maybe this wasn't about my timeframe.  Maybe there's a reason why God would give me this last child in His timing and not mine.

I should stop here and say that coming to this decision was not easy for several reasons.  I never thought I would have a baby after 35 and I'm a...few years beyond 35.  In addition to that, I have battled the inner ear problem that I mentioned in this transparent post that started when Gavin was a toddler.  (By the way, I am doing fabulous with it and have only had one bad equilibrium episode in the last 6 months and for the past four weeks I have had almost no ringing in my left ear.  I can even talk on the phone with my left ear and that is huge).  There was also the hurdle to get past of "starting over."  My boys are pretty self-sufficient, Gavin is fully potty-trained and starting school in the fall, and now we're going to go back to nighttime feedings and chasing a baby?  You understand.  The women reading my blog will also understand my hesitance to go back to gaining all that weight again.  Yikes!  I'm not one of those cute pregnant women who just have a little basketball in front.  I get pregnant everywhere and losing the weight has gotten harder, not easier, with each pregnancy.  I lost every pound after Jac in 2 1/2 weeks.  It was not to be repeated after Ethan and Gavin.

Even given all of those reasons, the most difficult hurdle to get past had less to do with anything physical and everything to do with something very emotional.  You see, I had always imagined that I would have at least one girl.  Growing up, I was very girly and dreamed of one day having my own little girl.  My Mom and I have always had a wonderful relationship and I wanted to have that with a daughter of my own.  When we found out Jac was going to be a boy it was OK, because we fully intended on having more children.  When I had my ultrasound and learned Ethan was on his way it took me about three days to accept it.  The turning point was looking at all of Jac's little baby clothes and thinking how fun it would be to have another little boy to wear them.  You knew it had to have something to do with clothes, didn't you?  If Ethan had been a girl I might not have been as willing to have another baby.  When it came to getting pregnant with Gavin I waited until I was at the place that I truly wanted another baby.  I didn't want to get pregnant just with the intention of having a girl.  I was at that place...or so I thought until I had the ultrasound.  My parents were there with us (this was a first) and when I found out he was going to be a boy I laid on the table silently crying.  Of course, I was thrilled that he was healthy, but learning that he was a boy was, to me, the death of my dream of having a little blonde-headed daughter because the personal limit I had set was three babies.  That night at home I mainly stayed in my room with my mother and mother-in-law coming and going and grieving with me.  I understand that in being transparent about my feelings this may evoke some harsh judgment from some people.  If you are in a place of having fertility issues then you're probably saying, "Cry me a river, will you??  You're upset that you have three healthy boys??"  I totally get that, and even in the moment, part of my grief was the guilt over being so very selfish as to be sad over having three healthy boys.  All I can say is I'm sorry and I understand where you're coming from.  I have an old friend, Tracy, and we used to work together.  She had, at the time, a 2-year-old little boy named Joe.  She had Joe before we started working together and I didn't have any children at that point.  Tracy and I shared an office and she told me the story of when she was pregnant with Joe.  At her 20-week ultrasound Tracy was told she was having a girl.  She was overjoyed.  It was her first baby.  She had baby showers and was given everything pink.  They decorated the nursery in pink and were preparing to have little Caroline (I hope I remember the name right, and I love that name).  A week before she was to give birth she found that Caroline was not really Caroline.  Caroline was going to be a boy who they would name Joe.  Tracy told me that she really went through a time of grieving for the little girl she had lost.  Even though she hadn't really lost a baby and this couldn't really ever be compared to losing a baby, she grieved still over the loss of the idea of having a girl.  She had Joe and loved him to pieces.  She went on to have another boy named Jack and now they are both in high school.  I know she wouldn't trade either one for a million girls just like I wouldn't trade my boys for girls.  I love each one of them so much and my idea that another boy would be just more of the same was so wrong.  They are each unique and special in their own way.

So, this grief over closing the door to ever fulfilling my dream of having a girl didn't end in just one day. It would come in waves throughout my pregnancy.  One wave came one morning when I was getting ready for work.  I was weeping so much that I couldn't put on my makeup.  I'll tell you, that has never happened before or since.  Nothing keeps me from putting on my makeup.  I didn't tell Lindy what was going on because I don't think he could really understand what I was going through.  I drove to work, weeping, with my makeup in hand.  The person I turned to at work was the last person you would think I should turn to but the only person I wanted to see.  Another friend and employee, Margaret, was my designated shoulder to cry on.  Even in the midst of all my tears I was still apologizing to Margaret for putting all of this on her because she had wanted to have children and it was not something that ever happened for her and her husband.  She and her husband are actively involved in their church and have lots of "kids" with their youth group.  I felt guilty, but Margaret was as kind and comforting as she always is in any situation.  She is such a dear friend and related to my grief in a way most people wouldn't.  Just yesterday she came to me and we talked about that day.  She told me that if I have that moment again this time around, she wants to be that shoulder again.  What a friend.  Everyone should have a friend like that.

So, now you know all my reasons for not wanting to have another baby.  My heart eventually did heal and when Gavin arrived he was welcomed with open arms.  I still avoided girl clothes in stores, but I was ready for a third boy.  I love Gavin to pieces, although when he was about three years old and I was putting him down for a nap while he was really giving me fits, I thought to myself, "This child might not live to see the age of four and Lindy wants to go through all of this again???"

Given all of those reasons, why would I agree to another baby?  Well, let's just say that my husband is very charismatic and I adore him.  He was convinced that another baby was a good idea.  In the end, I decided that I would at least not prevent it and let God decide--not "let God decide"--Duggar-style--but just for this last one.  In the beginning I was relieved each month when it was not to be, but over time God worked on my heart and the relief began to change to disappointment.  That's when I was more confident that maybe this might be a good thing.  Still, no one knew except for Crista that another Carnett could be a possibility.  I thought someone might guess when they read the end of this post about my love story with Lindy, no one did.  You might pick up on it if you read it again.  I was already pregnant, and knew it, when I wrote that post.  I also know that I can have real issues with control and things going the way I think they should.  Having another baby is completely outside my frame of reference for what I thought my life would be at this age, but maybe that's another way that God is showing me once again that His way is perfect, not mine, and I should rest in Him knowing that His ways are higher than my ways.  Also, the night we announced to our families we were expecting--which just so happened to be the 20th anniversary of the day Lindy and I met--my Mom told me something I had never known.  Her grandmother, my great grandmother, was 40 years old when my grandmother was born.  She was the last of nine children.  It struck me that none of us in my Mom's family would be here, including my own children, if my great grandmother hadn't had that last baby at the age of 40.

I promise this blog is not going to turn into your standard pregnancy blog--not that there's anything wrong with that.  I enjoy reading my friend Stephanie's blog that is all about her first pregnancy and I've learned a lot from reading.  She actually had me considering cloth diapering, just for a moment.  I've been down this road before and I'm an old pro after four, not Michelle Duggar type of old pro, but I kind of know what to expect.  My blog won't turn into a pregnancy play-by-play.  I will post anything that I think is funny, memorable, poignant, or touching.  Soon to come is a post on recent conversations with Gavin about his soon-coming baby brother or sister.  It's on the funny side.

Thanks for reading and to everyone, especially Carrie, for being so amazingly supportive.  All our friends and family are very excited--at least on the outside.  They might be messing with me and chatting about the old pregnant lady behind my back, but either way baby is on the way.  Ultrasound tomorrow to determine the official due date.  I was 9 weeks along yesterday so in another week I'll be 25% of the way through this pregnancy.  (Margaret calls me "Statistics Barbie" so I had to throw that in).  We're hoping for an 11/11/11 birthdate.

More later.  Love to all....