Why Georgia Luisa almost didn’t happen
{A Living With Beauty: Within Post}
Sometimes in life we are called to do really hard things. Things that scare us half to death. Things that require obedience to God, when we cannot see the forest for the trees.
One Winter day, about 5 years ago, I stood in front of our bathroom mirror with hysterical tears pouring down my cheeks. I death-gripped the sides of the bathroom mirror in my hand, and I said these words out loud – to myself:
“Promise me. PROMISE ME you will NEVER do this again.”
The “this” I was referring to was having a baby.**
I will never forget that promise I made to myself. Two years of postpartum depression, and a challenging 2.5 year old who rejected our new baby, and no family close by or support network close by… and I was barely BARELY making it through each day. I would go to bed at night, numb, and say, “I don’t want tomorrow.” This actually went on for two years! I tried to reach out for help in little ways, but a combination of me not accepting what help there was from others, plus a band-aid mentality from Doctors, led to a burdensome and slow recovery.
Somehow, I did make it out of that dark and hard place. But, I was left with a bad taste in my mouth. I was quite sure that this pregnancy thing was not for me… not good for me. I would say, “Some women are just champion pregnant women, and I am not one .” That second pregnancy messed with me in all kinds of ways, and when I finally realized that I was free from the awful prison of my own hormones, I would not consider going back.
Until … I started feeling a tiny nudge again.
When our second was getting close to 4, I started wrestling with the question: Is our family complete?
For the most part, I was able to ignore the nudge.
When I asked my husband, “Do you want a third?” he would simply say, “…Yes.” No pushing. He knew what I had been through. But, his answer never wavered. I know this, because I asked him about a zillion times, just waiting for him to debate it out with me. Which he never did. He just gave his gentle answer, “Yes, I want a third.”
So, for two years, I wavered. And, it wasn’t just the postpartum depression experience that held me back. Most days I was 100% convinced and satisfied that my family was done. Our days were full, and they were good and I did not have an emptiness. I had a business that was growing and a blog that was growing, and finally, I was getting to use my gifts and passions in a way that I loved. Homeschooling, boys in baseball, the freedom to do certain family outings, fixing up an old house, blogging, design boards; My minutes were filled to the brim. And with good things. I did not long for a baby.
But still… on the days when I was not 100% convinced, I sought council. I asked friends, and family, and shared my fears. Each and every conversation stuck with me, each morsel of encouragement. And… as much as I am not really a boat-rocker…. I dare to share that I got very different advice from Christians than I got from others who were not walking with God. Not sure why I am feeling prompted to share that, but it was my experience. It was fascinating to me how differently children, particularly new lives, were valued through the eyes of ones who love the Lord. His Crowning Glory.
But, finally, it was God who talked me into it.
After much wrestling, pity-partying, and selfish displays by moi {which BTW, I am still pretty dang good at.},
His words came to me in the same way they always do. A clear, quiet thought that enters my own mind as a very definitive statement. And, somehow, I just know that the thought did not come from me. The words take me by surprise and always call me out of my own selfishness. And I know that it is He who speaks to my heart. That is how it is for me.
But he did not say, “Have a third baby.”
He said, “Submit to your husband.”
Now before you all go getting your panties in a wad, if indeed you are wearing panties, and they are wadding, remember that my husband NEVER once ASKED me, “Darlene, can we have a third?” or told me, “Darlene, I think we should have a third.” The opposite. He answered my inquiries and never wavered on his answer, but there was no pushing. {there are a zillion awesome writers who address the Christian concept of submission, so dive into it if you are curious. I won’t go into it here other than to say that I actually do believe we are called to submit to our hubbies, but our men… oh our poor men, have the FAR harder calling of loving us as Christ loves the church. i.e. hang on a cross for us. See Ephesians. They are actually supposed to die for us. So, I will take my ‘submission sentence,’ thank you very much. …Which I kinda stink at, BTW, since we are being honest here}.
Submit. That was all He said. And I realized that by my husband saying “Yes, I want a third,” all these years… I realized that I held the key to his heart’s desire. That my husband needed me to make his dream come true. A dream he never once asked me to fulfill. As a loving husband, he could not just go out and get a concubine and have another baby. This was it. It was up to me to give him a gift he would not dare to ask for. And it meant I had to give up a huge chunk of me-ness.
I had to go down that road of body-image-disaster again. I had to go down that road of letting go of my own dreams for a bit. I had to back off of blogging, of cute outfits {mine at least}, of interior designing, of speaking opportunities, of recognition, of freedom, of time to myself, of me, of me, of me, of me, of me……..
In the end, I decided to obey God. And after years of saying that our family was “done,” I now have
her.
…
For any of you who have been following my ridiculously Georgia-Lu-invaded Instagram stream, well, you know how I feel about this girl. And I could list the detailed answered prayers, but at the very least I should tell you that I am not struggling with postpartum depression this time around.
…
Our God is a God of Good.
It looks different for everyone, but; If we trust Him, and listen very carefully through His Word, and through His gentle nudging of what He says is so, and through the loving words of His faithful followers here on earth,
He will take away our Better…
and give us Best.
** This is my story. Thank you for your comments. Please tread lightly on the sharing of my heart. All of us have struggles; This was one of mine, and I pray that sharing it will bless others. My Word from God is not yours…. so ask Him. He will answer.
**If you struggle with having babies, I hope you hear my heart in this post as simply sharing my own story. Please know, I have not forgotten that you may be reading this and my heart is so sensitive to your pain.
Related Posts:
What I really think about Decorating
A little story about Darlene the Opera Singer
An invitation for creative YOU to become a Master Designer
* * *
Take daily, bite-size steps toward living in a home you LOVE: Be sure to subscribe to FHD via email, bloglovin, your fave reader, and follow Fieldstone Hill on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook!
* * * * *
I am into natural choices for my family, and this is the main way I avoided taking any medicines during pregnancy, and for our entire family after.
* * * * *
Don’t miss a single post from Fieldstone Hill Design! Have regular decorating goodness delivered {free!} directly to your inbox.
