Change of plans, kids...

On clinging to unhelpful plans and expectations, and finally letting go

Hi friends! The 3-day weekend¹ threw me off and I almost forgot to write today's post, but my brain decided to have a thought as I was trying to sleep, which reminded me what day it was, and now here I am at 1 AM, having stayed up far too late to finish it in time to share with you. I'm usually one to protect my sleep, but it felt important, and the germs wait for no one.

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Having four kids was a part of my life plan for about as long as I can remember.

I say “part of my life plan,” but actually, that pretty much was the whole plan.

I mean, before that, I had intended to graduate college with a degree that I could somehow put to use in the hopefully-very-little-time between graduating (and getting married, obvs) and beginning to produce said offspring (preferably before I turned 30), at which point I would of course become the contented stay-at-home mom of my dreams, and everything would be perfect.

I could write a whole post about how we've all been lied to about how difficult motherhood is in general (which I kind of already did) and about how that factored into my “choice," but…

Now that I think about it, this was never actually my life plan, was it?

Rather, it was the life plan of least resistance that I “chose” for myself when I was young and had been told I could be anything I wanted, while simultaneously being raised in conservative evangelicalism under the cisheteropatriarchy.

It was the life plan I “chose” for myself when I (and everyone around me) still assumed I was neurotypical, cis, straight, and able-bodied, yet for some indiscernible reason I secretly felt desperately overwhelmed by the idea of holding literally any career I could think of, no matter how much I may be interested² in the field.

If I'm being truthful, it was the only life plan I felt confident I could manage at all, and rather than examine this, I took it and ran.

I knew how to hold, feed, and change a baby. I loved babies. What could be more simple?

I wanted four because I was a middle child of three, so I didn't want anyone feeling left out - which meant no odd numbers.

I wanted four because obviously two was simply not enough, and six was probably too many.

I wanted four because it meant plenty of chances to use my favourite names, and plenty of time to soak up all the baby snuggles, and plenty of grandchildren when they all grew up.

I wanted four because I had absolutely no real comprehension of how even one would affect my brain and body and life.

Then I had one.

And she was magnificent and, sure, I was exhausted but that was normal, and then there was a pandemic and my husband was home with us constantly and I was thriving and so in love with us, so we decided we were ready for another.

Then I was pregnant with my second, while still nursing my first, and realizing I had ADHD, and going to therapy, and moving house, and giving birth while still in-between houses and staying with family, and dealing with postpartum anxiety and intrusive thoughts, and realizing I'm autistic and waiting seven months for an evaluation, and simultaneously realizing/naming that I was chronically ill and disabled and deep in burnout, and…

Now I'm 30, and I don't know exactly what the future holds, but I do know with absolute certainty that I will not be having four children.

It has been remarkably difficult to let go of this plan, despite all the reasons it no longer makes (and perhaps never made) sense for me.

When I finally did begin to let go of this rigid mandate I'd assigned myself, I realized that there was an option between stopping at two and going for four, and I was stuck in limbo, making all my plans for this maybe, for about a year.

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One of our family photos we had taken this past autumn by my friend Liz at Lula Portraits and Designs.

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I am not prepared to have another baby at the moment, but I can't say for sure that I never will be, and that possibility has kept me from being fully present with the life and family that I have right now.

I haven't let go of any baby items so far in case we need them again.

I've held back on altering plans for our future home renovations because we might need more space.

I've tried to rush the process of healing from burnout and learning to live with my chronic illnesses because if I'm going to have another, I won't want to wait too long.

I've had less patience with myself and my husband for struggling to keep up with home care tasks because if I'm going to have another, I'll need the house (and therefore myself) to be more functional first.

I've been less gentle with myself when I react to the kids or when I'm just overwhelmed or having a bad day because if I'm going to have another, I should be able to handle the ones I've got first.

All of this waiting, and planning-for-maybe, and pushing myself to get to a place where I might feel able to have another baby has been getting in the way of me enjoying this life we've created with the two incredible little ones we already have.

It's kept my from being able to fully accept where I am, and made me feel like I'm always somehow behind where I “should” be.

It's kept me from letting go of shame and expectations that were never mine to hold.

It's kept me from moving forward in ways that actually make sense for me and my family as we are now.

I still don't know if I will ever feel ready have another baby, but I do know that I don't want to continue to prioritize the possibility that it might happen over acknowledging and appreciating what already is.

Instead, I'm ready to move forward as if it will be just the four of us³ forever, and at least for now, I feel content in that.

If you'd like, I would love for you to share your thoughts or your own experience with us in the comments. And as always, feel free to share if this resonated with you!

1. I'm in the U.S. and my husband and daughter both had the day off for Martin Luther King Jr. day.

2. As an (undiagnosed) AuDHDer, I always had plenty of interest.

3. Technically six, with our current pets, and of course our family as it is now is not “just" anything, but you get it.