4th child journal 2

I wrote this last Thursday, the 30th.

Today has been a day that has really tested my commitment to our decision to have another baby. Overtired, overwhelmed, overemotional was Jennifer today. I’m thinking of Will Ferrell’s character in the movie Stranger Than Fiction plopping down on his bed and declaring, for his phantom narrator, “Harold, distraught. Harold, distraught.” I wasn’t that bad all day, but enough to make me wonder . . . Am I crazy to want to bring another little one into my care? Or worse, am I irresponsible to move toward that goal?

It’s the end of the day, and looking back I’m wrestling with something I said to Sid when I spoke to him in the eye of my mental storm and he asked, “And you want another one?” My answer was, “I don’t, I can’t do it, forget it.” Even as I said it, I knew I didn’t really mean it, that answer came from my false self, or as Dad puts it, my sarchotic self.

As I now reflect, I think that there are quite a few things I could have easily chucked today that would have brought on a considerably more quiet and restful atmosphere for my thorough exhaustion. All I would have needed was a good excuse, such as ‘I have four kids,’ or ‘I have three kids and am pregnant.’ All the extras would have fallen by the wayside and Jennifer would have been given priority. I wouldn’t have worried about the messes so much because I wouldn’t be having the party on Sunday. I wouldn’t have done an intense craft store session for supplies for the party favors, as I carried a sweet little sleeping girl which was causing a cramp my shoulder muscle, because, again the party would either not be happening, or it would be low key. I realized, I’m doing extra stuff right now because I can. Because June is at an age and a stage, where she grants me freedom I haven’t known for the last almost two years. Utilizing that freedom to do the extra stuff is enjoyable now, but it is extra and it will be chucked as soon as it hinders the well-being of myself or my babes.

So back to the answer I gave Sid, I would like to have another shot at that one. I have a revised response and it is, “Yes, I do want another one, what I’m dealing with now has nothing to do with the kids, it’s in my head, it’s my exhaustion.” There back to my good ol’ real self, or again as Dad puts it, my pneumatic self.

In other words, I am finding my previous doubt to be unfounded. I am convinced that the Holy Spirit will grant me the wisdom, grace, patience and creativity to manage the demands of a larger household, peacefully. That’s how He rolls. So far I consider the work He’s done in me to be nothing short of miraculous, and He promises to be faithful to complete it, so . . .

He’s telling me now to pay attention, I did see it all coming today, and I walked right into it without taking a minute to breathe and be aware of my sensitive (maybe volatile is the more accurate descriptor!) condition, I chose my frantic state over the option of quieting down and absorbing the peace God was offering. I went ahead of God’s grace and if I’m serious about wanting another baby then it is my responsibility to try as best I can not to let that happen, but instead to always stop . . . breathe . . . open . . . and feel God’s love and let Him lead, whether He would direct me back to bed, or on with the day’s tasks.