Why, the Answer, and Hope

She did it again.

She asked the hard question. The one I am never ready for and it came from her eight-year-old mouth.

I took a bite, answered a question from her younger sister, and collected my thoughts. I looked into her eyes. Those eight-year-old blue eyes. She was the one. The one who came first. It was her birth that gave me the title mom. There she sat on Mother’s Day asking me why I could never be a mom again.

The question crushes me and suffocates me and haunts me. I do not have the answer. I tried to formulate an answer that her mind could understand without diving into the longing, the pain, the questions I still have.

How do I say this Lord? What can I tell her when my broken body cries out for more children?

“Remember,” I began hoping she could understand, “the last time we tried to have babies?”

“Yes,” she answered. “You had to go to the hospital.”

“Yes,” I nearly choked on the word, “and I had to take lots of medicine. Remember those three babies didn’t make it and how sad that was for us all?”

“How many babies,” her younger sister piped up, “how many babies died?”

“Three,” she answered sadly.

I shook my head and said, “We had nine babies, but only got two from those nine. If we tried again, I would have to take lots more medicine and go to the doctor a lot more. Who would take care of you all when I went to the doctor?”

She nods her head, brow knit in concern.

“So unless God does a miracle in my body, we won’t have any more babies in this house that come from mommy’s tummy,” the words felt heavy and final as they rolled off my tongue. Yet there was hope. Hope of babies not from my womb, hope of a miracle in my body, hope of a miracle in my heart. Hope.

I looked at my precious three. My blessings in flesh, with food on their faces, and fire in their eyes. I knew that I may always long for more, oh but I have a treasure here to enjoy.

So starts my gratitude list:

458. Three children who are bright, beautiful, and fun!

459. God is a God of miracles

460. His Word is my lamp, my light, my bread

461. 11 hours of sleep to fend of the yuckies.

462. First swim of the year

463. Friends!

464. My husband and the flowers and cards he got me.

465. Sweet stories from my L

466. Little boy squeezes from my J

467. Big girl discussions from my E

468. Big dreams

469. My first newsletter is out!

470. My supportive husband

471. Wise counsel from wise friends

472. God uses us despite our circumstances

473. God uses us despite our past choices

474. My husband’s guitar

475. Quiet evenings

476. My mom

477. Coffee with my dad (over cyberspace)

478. Wonderful teachers at my kids’ schools

479. Gift of Worship through song

480. My kids’ singing in the car

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Angela
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2 Responses to Why, the Answer, and Hope

  1. That must be so hard for her little heart and mind to understand…

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