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.
Having children is the greatest expression of hope humans can participate in. We believe the best is yet to come. We are not cynical people. Deciding to have children is tantamount to saying we believe the world they will grow up in will be bright and beautiful, and that’s a statement of faith we want to make.
I believe this is an even more radical position to hold today than it was six years ago, in no small part because we find ourselves (still!) in the grips of a global pandemic. But John and I feel this as strongly as we ever have. God is good. Life will find a way. And we are VERY grateful to be a part of bringing a new little embodiment of hope into a broken and beautiful world later this year.
Perhaps surprisingly, I’m finding I have much more I’d like to discuss with you about a third pregnancy/child than I did about a second, but here are a few preliminaries to get us up to speed!
How are you feeling? At 21 weeks, I feel great! I have felt MUCH more tired throughout this pregnancy than I have with either of my previous two (like, napping every day and for three hours on the weekends in the first trimester!), but I’ve had more energy in the last few weeks. I also had low-grade but manageable nausea in the first trimester (a little milder than previous pregnancies).
Wait, did you say 21 weeks?! Yep! 21 weeks today. My due date is July 15, which is actually John’s birthday! July is about to get even fuller and happier, as we also have Shep’s birthday at the end of the month and MANY extended family birthdays and anniversaries in July, too!
I did not plan to announce this pregnancy so late in the game, but a few factors combined to make it so. (Looking at you, rainiest winter on record, NC, and general ever-present exhaustion.) Now that we’ve cleared this hurdle, I can’t wait to share more!
Were you planning on having another baby? Yes! It was not always a foregone conclusion, however – more about that in a future post :) I will say that a third child does not seem to be a forgone conclusion for others, either, in the way that, say, a second child often is, so it has been fun to receive the more surprised and delighted reactions of friends and family this time around as opposed to the “yay! but yeah, we figured this was coming” that we got last time :) We do believe our family will be complete with the addition of this little one.
Are you going to find out whether it’s a boy or girl? We actually already have, at the 20-week anatomy scan! (EEK!) As before, I needed these next few months to wrap my head around and prepare my heart for what’s coming. We have shared with our families and will be sharing here, too, shortly!
Do June and Shep know? They do! We wrapped up “big sister” and “big brother” shirts for them to open on Christmas Eve. It’s been totally different and wonderful to have a very aware five-year-old as part of the experience this time around! She loves to find out what size fruit the baby is each week, and we’ve been having lots of conversations about baby sister or brother (she is rooting for sister). She will be the best helper this summer!
Shep, age 2.5, does not seem to have much conception of what’s happening, but when we were sitting on the floor the other day, he did pat my stomach and say, “what’s this big belly doing?” HA!
Did you and Nancy have a pregnancy pact? No, but we are delighted to be due two weeks apart!! We had a very funny get-together a few weeks ago where one of us said, “I have something to tell you,” and the other one said, “I have something to tell YOU!” Needless to say, we will be camping in the spring this year! :)
Friends, you have been so kind to me and my family over the MANY years we have been together here, and it really is a joy to share these milestones with you. This third journey hasn’t yet felt complete without you as a part! I can’t wait to share more of the story as it unfolds.
Many thanks to photographer June for capturing the bottom two photos! :)
I welcomed your questions about our transition from one to two kids on Instagram, and you gals didn’t hold back – in fact, there were so many that I’m going to break them up into several posts! Today, we’re talking all things pre-arrival and the first few days.
As always, remember that this is just one family’s experience, and we certainly don’t have everything figured out. I hope something here might be helpful for you as you navigate growing your own family!
How did you know you were ready for a second kiddo?
Though it took us awhile to decide we were ready for our first, there was no question about jumping back in a second time – it was more a matter of choosing the right timing. When we decided to have one baby, we were basically deciding to have (at least) two.
In terms of timing, I was hoping to be pregnant by June’s second birthday, and I was. I’ve read that 2-3 years is actually the hardest gap for developing sibling relationships (1 year and 4/5 years are statistically better, apparently), but 2-3 felt right for us, and besides, I think there are more salient factors than the number of years in determining the quality of a sibling relationship! I liked that June would be walking and talking by the time a sibling arrived, but not so set in her only child status that a sibling would be an incredibly-jarring adjustment.
I was also keeping in mind the cyclical nature of my work and hoping to time a birth for a lighter time of year. Of course, the content of my work changed radically while all of this was happening, so that didn’t end up being much of a factor in the end.
Finally, John was hoping for a summer baby, and it’s fun how things ended up working out – Shepherd (July 31st) is slotted into a heavy lineup of family summer birthdays, including his uncle (July 1st), his Daddy (July 15th), his cousin (July 30th), and his Pop-Pop (August 7th). I love that we will almost certainly celebrate his birthday on the Island some years, which is a special kind of magic!
How did you help June with the transition to big sister? Any suggested reading?
We started talking about the baby more as my belly began to be more noticeable – just talking about how he was coming and that we were excited and that she was going to be such a great big sister. We talked about how he was going to be a part of our family and would be our baby. We’d also talk a lot about other friends her age who had siblings to help her connect his arrival to something concrete.
People would often ask us whether June knew what was happening, which was hard to answer. She was a young two for most of the lead-up (she was 2.5 when Shep was born), and so many things went over her head. She certainly told people she was going to have a brother, but I don’t think she really knew what that meant.
We read a few books – When You Were a Baby and How To Be a Baby were two favorites – but I’m not sure what effect they had on preparing her for her new role!
This is a kind of indirect answer, but I think the biggest ways we helped June prepare to be a big sister started long before I was pregnant. Helping her to develop patience and the ability to play independently, disavowing her of the idea that the world revolves around her and that she’ll always get her way, and growing in her a desire to be a helper (which I think most toddlers naturally have!) all made WAY more of a difference in the transition than talking about what the baby was going to be like or reading a book.
Overall, June has never been particularly interested in babies (takes after her mama :)), so we kept things low-key. Since his arrival she has always been accepting of him, but typically more interested in her own activities or thoughts – ha! (Shep, however, has been OBSESSED with her from the start, and they love to make each other laugh!)
Did you try to potty train before Shep’s arrival?
We did – kind of? Potty training was an ongoing process for us :) Our pediatrician had recommended 2.5 as a good age to try, which of course was exactly when Shep was scheduled to arrive. After seeing her cousin use the potty on vacation in June, June was motivated, so we rolled with it a little early. I would say we were still very much in the midst of training by the time Shep arrived, but it wasn’t a bad thing – we were mostly hanging around at home, so the bathroom was nearby and accidents weren’t a huge disruption.
How did you transition June to her big girl bed?
June is a GREAT sleeper, and I had NO desire to rock that boat when we were also getting up overnight with a newborn. She didn’t show any signs of climbing out of her crib until the end of September, so that’s when we made the switch. We tested the waters by having her sleep on a toddler inflatable mattress while on vacation, and just told her not to get out of the bed. Aaaaaand… it worked! My biggest concern was that she would immediately start walking around the room, but I had heard from many friends that their kids just didn’t, and June was the same.
When we got back from vacation, we made a big deal about sleeping in her “big girl princess bed” and she was excited to do so. She helped us disassemble the crib and move over her twin bed (it had been in her room since birth, which maybe helped – no jarring new piece of furniture!). Her bed is pretty high (we use this bumper), which I think has helped to dissuade her from getting in and out – she can, but it’s not as easy as just sticking a foot over the edge.
When and how did June first meet Shep?
My Mom arrived the night before my c-section and took care of June while we were in the hospital. June came to visit for the first time the afternoon of our second day in the hospital, a little more than 24 hours after Shep was born. This turned out to be good timing – we had had a change to get to know Shep, but I was still enjoying the effects of the morphine drip from the surgery. That evening, the effects wore off (my hospital gave morphine for 24 hours after surgery), and my transition onto just painkillers was rocky, so hours 30-40ish were the roughest for me, pain-wise.
June brought a little stuffed bear to the hospital as her gift to Shep, and she was delighted that he had a gift for her to unwrap, too – a stuffed Jellycat pig :) Not sure how much of a factor that played in getting their relationship off on the right foot, but it was sweet!
June was able to climb up in the bed with me and snuggle and take a look at Shep. It was a short but sweet visit!
Which was the harder transition – 0 to 1 or 1 to 2?
1 to 2, only because 0 to 1 was hardly a blip on our radar. I am exaggerating, of course – there were many adjustments when June entered our lives! – but in every way she made things easy for us. Shep did and does, too, but in most things he is just a smidge more challenging than she was.
For us, one child (especially the child we got) was easily absorbed into the life we already had. She was easy to take anywhere, would snooze in her car seat under the table at a restaurant until six months or so, and didn’t really change much about how we spent our days and nights and weekends.
The verbal vault from talking about “June” to talking about “the kids” is representative of the leap forward in our life as parents. Outings require just a bit more forethought, scheduling has become just a bit more difficult with two routines to take into account, and going about our daily lives has become just a bit more complicated. More about all that in part two :)
How did you function with a toddler while running on no sleep?
Don’t hate me, but I never felt like I was functioning on no sleep. Yes, most nights I was getting up two or three times, but Shep (like June) was good about nursing and then falling back to sleep pretty easily for his first few months of life. John and I were also able to fall back asleep when he did, so sitting up in bed for two or three half-hour stints overnight didn’t phase me too much.
June also doesn’t wake up super-early – usually between 7:30 and 8 if left to her own devices – and John would usually graciously get out of bed when she woke up and get her started on breakfast so I could sleep in a little bit longer.
Also helpful: from the beginning, we would always try to put Shep down for a nap during June’s afternoon nap. It didn’t always work, but if both kiddos were asleep, you can bet both parents were asleep, too :)
Okay – I think we’ll leave it there for part one! If you have a question I haven’t answered yet, feel free to drop it in the comments! I hope this has been helpful!!
More in this series: Part Two (gear) Part Three (finances, blessings, challenges, bedtime, what’s most different, and more!)
In the end, inasmuch as something as miraculous as a birth can be ordinary, Shep’s was — and that in itself was a miracle. That is the story I have to tell you today.
When last we left off in my world of birthing, I had delivered our daughter via c-section a few days earlier than expected. Throughout my pregnancy with June, I kept my hands open — doing what I could to prepare for an unmedicated birth (hiring a doula, taking a birth class, reading up on all the things), but also realistic that I had no idea what the experience of labor would be like and that I might well choose to get an epidural. I felt fine either way, and sure that my worth wasn’t tied up in either outcome. What I never saw coming, however, was a c-section, and when June presented breech at 38 weeks, that’s exactly what I got.
Our doctor’s pronouncement of an immediate surgery (because of low amniotic fluid) sent me reeling — with panic, fear, powerlessness, and sadness. The birth I had been anticipating was plucked from my hands and set out of reach, leaving me grasping for a reality that was no longer mine. That day I sat outside the doctor’s office and sobbed — because I didn’t feel ready, because I was anxious about our baby girl, because I was terrified of a c-section, and in mourning for the experience of giving birth I had been anticipating.
If you’ve read June’s birth story, you know that a kind nurse’s casual remark was the spark that finally stemmed my tears: “You can always try for a VBAC next time!” she said. At once, all the possibilities I was reaching for seemed to come rushing back to me, and I was able to set aside my thoughts about the future and focus on the task at hand, secure in the knowledge that what I had so recently thought was gone forever was back within reach. It was confirmed in my mind — the next time around, I would be trying for a VBAC if at all possible.
And then I gave birth to June, and I recovered from surgery – not without pain, but surprisingly quickly and easily. Nursing was smooth. My scar healed and was hardly visible. Nothing I was worried about seemed to come to fruition.
Over the many months that followed, I would occasionally and idly wonder about that next time around. I found that I was no longer set on trying for a VBAC at all costs, given what ended up being a largely positive experience with June’s birth. I mostly kicked that can down the road, but I did take the step of switching OB/Gyn after my six-weeks-post-birth appointment, since the doctor that delivered June did not do VBACs (also he was terrible, so that was an easy decision!).
And then the test came back positive, and what was once theoretical was now imminent. And boy was I conflicted. Based on the reason for my previous c-section (breech positioning) and my lack of other risk factors, my doctors were happy to have me either schedule a c-section or attempt a VBAC. They would not induce me, however, and if I hadn’t gone into labor naturally by 40 weeks, they would move forward with a c-section on my due date.
So I had those parameters, but otherwise the decision was up to me (and also John, but he understandably felt I should take the lead).
My pregnancy was mostly uneventful. It was, however, marked by almost constant unrest over how Shep’s birthday would play out.
This time and last time, all I wanted was a healthy baby and a healthy mama. I’m not alone in this, but others usually say this to mean they are fine with any delivery outcome. I, however, was in the position of having to choose the type of delivery, with the knowledge that my choice could have an impact on just how healthy mama and baby would be — and that often felt like a crushing amount of pressure.
There are risks and benefits to both c-sections and VBACs, and every week, it seemed, I would get a new bit of information or insight that would send me swinging from one side to another. I prayed often for God to make it clear which option would be better, or even to take one option off the table (by, for example, giving me another breech baby!). I even point-blank asked my favorite doctor at one appointment what she would do if she were me, but she stuck to the party line that both were good and safe options. Harrumph.
I knew what I didn’t want: hours of intense laboring, and then having to have a c-section anyway. My recovery with June was better than most because I went into it fresh, not exhausted from many hours of labor. If I was going to have another c-section, I didn’t want to labor before it.
At 21 weeks, I read that half of all TOLAC (Trial of Labor After Cesarean Delivery) result in c-sections. That seemed excessively high to me, so I swung toward scheduling a c-section.
At 24 weeks, my doctor explained that were I to attempt a TOLAC, they would be monitoring me closely because of concerns about stress to my uterus, and wouldn’t let me labor as long – so even if I had to have a c-section, I’d still have a good amount of strength. I swung back toward wanting a VBAC.
At 27 weeks, a different doctor explained the risk of scar rupture. It’s 1 in 200, which again, seemed absurdly high to me for a pretty major complication. Back to scheduled c-section.
The questions chased each other for months.
What if we want more biological children? VBACs aren’t as recommended after two c-sections, and three c-sections are done but not necessarily encouraged.
Was I choosing convenience, the “easy” route? Was there virtue or reward in choosing the “harder” route? From whom?
Would people think less of me? Would I think less of myself?
Would I never experience my water breaking, contractions, that “this is it” moment, rushing to the hospital at midnight, or laboring with John at my side?
In the end, I scheduled the c-section for as late as possible while still being on a day my favorite doctor was on-call. (Though I liked all of the OBs at my group practice, I had an AWFUL experience with my first doctor and was determined to have a joyful doctor-patient relationship this time around!) If I went into labor before then, I would do everything in my power to have a successful VBAC.
I clung to advice from a dear friend’s mom – to make a decision, and then make it the right one. There was no perfect answer here, and no way to know how things would unfold from either starting point — what complications I might or might not experience with either type of birth. All I could do was make the best decision I could with the information I had, and then leave it behind me (and ask God for His grace over all of it!).
As July 31st approached, I had not even a hint of impending labor – I wasn’t dilated at all, and I hadn’t felt anything even remotely close to a contraction. I wrapped everything tidily up at work on Friday (a luxury I hadn’t had last time!), and spent a leisurely Monday with June at my side – going to the hospital for intake blood work, picking out books at the library, an afternoon nap, and a walk around the neighborhood in the summer heat. We picked up my Mom at the airport that evening.
My surgery was at 11, which meant we needed to arrive at 9. We took one last photo as a family of three outside our house (my hospital bracelet already on!), then John and I dropped June off at school before heading to the hospital. There was no need to hide tears when we recreated a photo from June’s birthday outside the entrance, and no tears when we greeted our nurses.
What was the same as last time? The peace I felt as I sat on the operating table, about to deliver June. After months of restlessness, doubt, and worry, I suddenly felt sure that I had done everything I could, that the choices I had made were the right ones, and that my baby boy and I were in good hands. I am so grateful for that.
The most painful part of the next two hours of prep was when the nurse-in-training tried to put my IV in multiple times – ouch! They eventually had to switch to the other hand and let the experienced nurse have a go. (She got it in the first time and I hardly felt it – but I had to put an ice pack on my other hand! Maybe a sign I would have gone for the epidural?!). Much of the rest of prep was the same as last time – listening to our boy’s heartbeat, talking to the anesthesiologist, drinking the nasty reflux preventative, the brief separation at the operating room door while John suited up in sterile gear.
With June, I felt detached from the bustling operating room and remember it as blessedly peaceful, a stark contrast to my painful morning. This time around, it felt like a party. My doctor put on beach music and laughed with the nurses while the nurse anesthetist asked me about June. The spinal block went in (not painful!), I was lowered onto the table, and the surgical drape went up (clear this time – a change since 2016).
Before John even got into the room, I was already starting to feel nauseous, and would go on to gag into a basin as they got started with the surgery. Unlike with June, where I felt uncomfortable kneading on my stomach, I didn’t feel anything when Shep slipped out – our sweet boy was a little fish! He entered this world at 12:06pm and held his breath for a few beats just to keep us on our toes — then immediately peed on the drape! John squeezed my hand before going to our boy in the warmer, then popped back around to assure me he was cute and all in one piece. 7 pounds, 3 ounces, 20 inches long.
I let out a breath I had been holding since November.
John cut the cord (he reported it was “gummy”), and, after a quick towel-off, Shep settled in on my chest while they finished out my surgery. I was still battling some nausea, so John and I passed our new baby boy back and forth – which was okay by me, since I had a better view of him when he was being held by John :)
We made our way back to the delivery floor, and then to our recovery room. I remember so clearly the feeling of being swathed in sheets and hospital blankets with my Shep tucked up against my chest, snuggled in a little nest.
He was, and is, the sweetest baby boy. I am so grateful for his birth, and that in the end, it was just an entry point into this wild and beautiful world. The real adventure has only just begun.
