Deciding to have a third child

Six years ago, I wrote a post about deciding to have children. No similar post was needed when we decided to add a second kiddo to our family (for us, once we decided to have one, two was a given), but about a year ago we reached another inflection point: did we want to add a third child to our family?

From the questions I’ve fielded after sharing our happy news, it seems that many of you have faced a similar decision, or expect to in the future. And I’m here for it! Whether or not to have a third child (or any child) is extremely personal, but just because a subject should be approached with care doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be approached at all.

Before I dive in, though, I want to acknowledge that we feel very grateful to have the ability to decide at all. Infertility was not a part of the story of adding the first two children to our family, and so when we were discussing the question of whether or not to have a third, whether or not we’d be able to was not really part of the calculation. If you are in the position of wanting to have a child and find yourself unable to, I am so sorry you’re carrying that pain.

Love, love, love this sweet acrylic frame for displaying an ultrasound! A few of you asked about it – here’s the link!

About a year ago, this is where we found ourselves: I was ready to have a third child, and John was not. We had loosely agreed to table the question until after our mortgage was paid off (because of the burden it would lift on our financial situation), but when we changed our mortgage pay-off plan, that detente became less binding.

A bit more about our starting positions: John was content with the size and shape of our family – to him, nothing seemed to be missing. He was not an “absolutely not” on three children, but he did not have a strong desire to have a third, either.

We had had two healthy pregnancies and two healthy children.
Daily life was manageable and usually not too chaotic nor overwhelming, and he was able to keep pace with it even though his new job was more demanding.
He could give the love and attention to our children that he wanted to.
We were financially stable and our long-term goals were on track.

The idea of adding a third meant potentially rocking the boat in a number of areas:

Another financial priority would be thrown into the mix.
Our emotional capacities would be stretched.
Three is an odd number and makes it more likely someone will be left out.
We’d be opening ourselves to the risk of another pregnancy and “rolling the dice” with growing another human. We’d be back at square one with the exhaustion and attention that a newborn requires.

22 weeks!

I felt that our family was not complete. John and I both grew up in families of three, and to me, that just seemed like the right number for a family, for our family. It’s big enough to feel like a group, but not so big to be overwhelming. Though it made me a bit nervous, I also welcomed the idea of a little more commotion in my life – I wanted the hustle and bustle, the fullness, of a bigger family. I wanted to see myself stretched and to see what growth might come from it.

I also liked that our children, as one of three, might at times feel a bit deprived – of our attention or presence, of an experience or opportunity, or of some physical possession they wanted. It is very important to me that my children don’t believe the world revolves around them and that they grow to be self-reliant, and when kids outnumber parents, those things can happen more naturally.

Finally, I hadn’t given up hope of having a third when I was pregnant with Shep, and so that pregnancy did not have the finality I would have wanted if it had been my last.

Could I have been happy with two? Certainly. Did I believe John could be happy with three? Yes. Did I share some of his concerns about how we would react to being stretched? Yes, absolutely. Could we have organized our life to grow some of the characteristics I outlined above? Yes, to an extent.

We tip-toed around the subject for several months, with John reminding me of our mortgage pact and me returning that it didn’t feel wise to give birth at 36 or 38 if I could just as easily have done it at 33 or 34. We agreed to pray about it, and we did.

As Shep’s second birthday approached, I sprinkled in casual references to a potential third child more and more frequently, with John diplomatically ignoring them most of the time. Eventually, I asked for A Serious Conversation, and he agreed. (This probably isn’t how everyone does it, but for us, if we have a conversation that we know will be momentous or a deep dive, we usually plan to tackle it on a date night. The neutral ground of a restaurant takes us out of the context and distractions of our daily life, and allows us both to put our best foot forward in engagement and magnanimity. Plus, dumplings make everything better!)

And so, we went on the date night and had the conversation, and we came away deciding to have a third child. Sitting across from each other, we ran through all of the pros and cons one more time, and in the end, found ourselves back in a similar place to where we had started six years ago: I couldn’t say exactly why I wanted a third child, but when I pictured my life in the long-term, that was my vision and desire. John, for his part, was gracious enough to accept that stronger desire, and self-aware enough to know that once he was in, he would be all-in, without any bitterness or resentment. Needless to say, I love and admire and appreciate that about him. I hope I would have been able to do the same if our decision had landed differently.

Is it difficult to face these crossroads in a marriage? Yes. Do I wish that we had been on the same page from the start? Yes. Did I feel uncomfortable with the idea that only one of us could “get our way” in a situation of such magnitude, and that in this case, it was me? Yes, a bit.

I felt comfortable pressing on this issue, though, because I knew that our marriage was strong enough to come out happy and whole on the other side. In taking the time to understand John’s reasoning, we were able to address many of his concerns, including for the health of me and another baby (not much we could do about that one aside from remind ourselves of the sovereignty of God – and lots of prayer!). We made practical plans, like me cutting back on work hours and running some financial numbers. And we had frank conversations about what another baby would do to our day-to-day life, and who would be bearing the bulk of those responsibilities (me, in many cases).

More than halfway through this pregnancy, I can tell you that we’re both excitedly on this path. As a friend’s mom likes to say, sometimes we just need to make a decision and then make it the right one. We feel grateful to be on this side of the decision, and engaged in making it the right one, together. We can’t wait to see who this new little person is we’re adding to our family!!

If you find yourself at a similar impasse, my advice can be summed up as follows:

— Take the decision slowly, if at all possible.
— Work to really understand the layers of your partner’s and your own position.
— Have very practical, realistic conversations about how you might meet any concerns or roadblocks.
— Pray about it. In our case, neither of us got a lighting bolt answer from God, but we were leaving space for it. I think He agreed we could be happy either way.

Friends, there will never be perfect words for a topic like this, but I hope it was helpful to hear one person’s imperfect thoughts. I’m here for anything you’d like to share in the comments!

P.S. If you are in the thick of this discussion yourself, you might like to listen to this Coffee & Crumbs episode, a vulnerable conversation on what it looks like when one spouse wants another baby and the other doesn’t.