These are normal conversations, typical decisions. When we have children and how we choose to expand a family. The pros and cons stack up, circulating around time, temperament, and resources.

When we see this uniquely beautiful love between siblings, it’s hard not to want to add to it. There’s something about kids, their gift of presence, that helps us be closer to “the now” too. Not that any of it is easy, but what a gift it is to experience life with a 5 year-old. As my kiddos are getting older, I want to rewind. I want more baby years. I want to see life their way and I want to pay more attention this next time.

I know it’s irrational. We don’t have time or money. We have two kids who need all of us now. We are already overwhelmed. Justin rightfully reminds me of the real challenges. He says I must be crazy to consider it. So, yeah, it’s not happening.

When I brought it up again two weeks ago, a half joke light suggestion, Justin asked me why, how I could see this as remotely feasible? We have two kiddos now who both could stand to benefit from more attention, not less. We both work outside of the home on “day” jobs and inside of the home on the nonprofit, all while supporting a child fighting cancer, and caring for a super sibling. How could I rationally consider a third child to be an option for our family? We’re exhausted as it is. To his question, to answer why I would want to do this with so many pressures stacked against us, I broke down in response. My answer jumped out, tapping into a dark space I had not acknowledged nor ever wanted to go.

We have no guarantees in this life. None of us do. But when I see the love and deep companionship between my children, I see how precious and fortifying it is. I don’t want to see Maesie face her future alone, as an only child, when she is not now and never will be an only child. What if Max is taken away from us? I never wanted to vocalize that. I still don’t. It hurts too much. I had covered that thought with so many layers of other conversations and more comforting stories. But there it was, my own elephant in the room, staring us both down. Justin and I both broke down in unison. He understood my why and now I have to acknowledge it to.