Our lives have, as I've mentioned before, a completely different shape and path than the one we both set ourselves on the day we said, "Yes."
We envisioned having 4 children fairly close together, I'd stay home once he finished law school, and by the time we were 50, our kids would be out of the house and we could travel with all the money he'd made.
HA! That's sort of the exact opposite of what's happened.
I've spent some time writing about attempting pregnancy again because that goal of having 4 (or even 5?) children to raise isn't something that I've given up on and it still feels like another child is in the cards. We had talked about it a couple of months ago and I had come to the conclusion that we could officially start trying this month but when I hit cycle day 1 and it was time to start my preconception medications, something felt off. Not horribly off, but just a small nagging presence. . .
I have learned to listen to that feeling and spoke to my other half about it late in the morning and we discussed it that evening and the following day as well, allowing time for both of us to pray about it on our own. The meds I needed could be started on CD2 if needed, although that wouldn't have been as ideal as day 1.
One of the aspects of marriage that I truly treasure is when we pray individually for answers and both come up with the same, or at least very similar, responses. Receiving the same revelation is comforting in a way that little else is, even when that revelation isn't what either of us wanted.
In the case of attempting pregnancy, we both got what I'd call the "non-answer," meaning that Heavenly Father wants us to decide for ourselves but He would rather we ask again later. Since I still haven't felt the overwhelming urge to attempt pregnancy like I experienced month after month since 2003, I put the meds back in the cupboard and we'll kneel together in a month or two to see if anything has changed.
My husband still wants a son. The pain and frustration is still there. When he talks about having a son, I can see something in him that is unique to him. It's not something I've ever seen in him before and I've known him for almost 20 years. Imagine dreaming of something your whole life and then realizing that your dream may not ever come true . . . it's soul crushing. That kind of pain can ruin a marriage or cause the sufferer to treat others with a lesser degree of love.
But not my husband. He cherishes his daughters, and me, and I see that in his eyes when he looks at us, in his language when he speaks to us, and in his actions as he serves us in all the ways he knows how.
I want to see him hold his living son in his arms, kiss his forehead, get peed on in the way only an infant boy can pee on his daddy, to build with Legos, watch football, and use a saw.
I want my husband to be able to teach our son how to serve God, how to follow the promptings of the Spirit, how to prepare for a mission and a temple marriage.
I want my husband to see his dreams fulfilled.
But not yet and possibly not ever and that's something we will both have to live with.
The gender of my children is not a big deal for me but having a son matters to me because it matters to him.
But not yet and possibly not ever and that's something we will both have to live with.
The gender of my children is not a big deal for me but having a son matters to me because it matters to him.
