Baby Goodness
Let me begin by explaining that I was 12 when my mom had the twins. Lydia would have been about 10, Eliza was 7 and Andrew was about 3. When I think back on the year they were born, I remember two things. First, that everyone was excited and second, that it was a hard transition for my mom and dad to go from 4 kids to 6 overnight. Something as simple as leaving the house took us so much more time than it had before. Both babies had to be put in their carseats along with Andrew before we could go anywhere, and making sure the diaper bag was sufficiently stocked with diapers, wipes, and extra clothing was another chore all together. And don't even get me started on how many diapers you have to change when there are two babies instead of one! Even though I was 12, I quickly picked up on the fact that mom and dad needed help. Lots of it. I don't remember making a conscious effort to help out more; I just remember that I started doing it. If we needed to leave the house, I would put one of the babies in their seats, make sure they had on shoes and a jacket, and then make sure that Andrew made it into the car. If I got home from school and one of them was awake from their nap, I would change their diaper and make sure they got a bottle. As they got older, mom started trusting me to babysit and I babysat all five kids ALL THE TIME. (I wasn't perfect... some day I'll have to write about the time Willis threw eggs at the fireplace when I was in charge. Whoops!) I guess you could say I learned at a very young age the responsibility and energy it takes to care for babies and little kids. Don't get me wrong I love my younger siblings to death, and am grateful to have all of those memories with them. I just remember vividly how tired both of my parents were, and how much work it takes to care for two new babies and three other young kids.
I think this is the reason that I didn't feel rushed to start a family when Nate and I got married. I expressed to him multiple times that I wanted both of us to be done with school, have stable jobs, and even travel a bit before starting a family. He never really objected and we went along with that plan happily for about a year. In March of 2018 I started to question our original plan. I kept getting the strong impression that we needed to start praying about when it would be a good time to start a family. Now, one odd trait about me is that when I feel prompted to pray about something, I often avoid doing so for fear of what the answer might be. I was terrified to ask God what he wanted us to do, for fear that his plan might interfere with my own.
Meanwhile, I had been having a recurring dream. My Grandpa John had passed away the summer before and I kept having this dream about him. He would be sitting in a lawn chair in Grandma's backyard and I would always run up to him, give him a hug, and proceed to tell him how much I missed him and love him. The dream always felt very real. I knew when I woke up that it had really been Grandpa. He would always smile and nod, but didn't say much. I was always grateful for the opportunity to see him, and often felt that he was looking out for me and loved me enough to take the time to come and say hello. I continued to have this same dream for months and didn't really think much of it.
Then one day, around the end of May an older gentleman made a comment in Sunday school. The topic was something along the lines of having the courage to do God's will. He talked about a grandaughter who, like me, was the oldest in her family and who, like me, had been hesitant to start a family because of the responsibility that comes along with it. He then went on to talk about how the little girl that came to their family has been such a joy and a blessing to this grandaughter and her family. As I sat there listening to him, I remember thinking "No way. That's me. How does he know I'm worried about that?" Later that day I told Nate about the experience and confessed that I had been feeling like we needed to pray about it. He said he had been having similar promptings, and after talking over all of my fears we decided to start praying.
While we did decide to start praying about it, I often would "forget" conveniently to mention our question in daily prayers. We went on like this for about two weeks when, on the Saturday before Father's Day, I had that same dream about my Grandpa. This time when I woke up, I had that same thought of gratefulness for the opportunity to see him. Right as I had that thought I got the distinct impression, "You know, he's not just coming to say hi when you have that dream. He needs to tell you something. He won't tell you unless you ask." I remember feeling shocked, and worried at this. I immediately decided that if I had the dream again I would ask, and worried that the opportunity to pose the question wouldn't come.
The next day Nate and I were at Grandma's house. It was a weird day, seeing as it was the first Father's Day we had spent as a family without Grandpa. My thoughts turned to him often, and my mind constantly turned back to the dream wondering what it was that he needed to tell me. After nearly everyone had left, I was outside watching Nate and some cousins play basketball. Grandma came up, put her arm around me, and handed me a picture book. I took one look at the cover and started to cry.
Grandma said, "I want you to have this, and to give it to your dad when he becomes a Grandpa." I started to shake my head in response but she pressed, "You gave it to Grandpa a few years back, he'd want you to have it."
Smiling I took the book and said thanks. The book was titled "How to Babysit a Grandpa", and as I thumbed through it I remembered that I had in fact gave Grandpa the book. More than the book itself was the realization of what God, Grandpa, and the Spirit had been trying to tell me. The tears flowed quicker as I realized what this meant for me, Nate, and all of our plans.
Later that night I filled Nate in. We talked about how starting a family could, and likely would, change our plans. We worried about what would happen if I got pregnant immediately, and, ironically, worried about how we would handle not getting pregnant for a longer period of time. We both felt the importance of following the strong impressions we had recieved. We understood that we would have to give things up, and make sacrifices for our dreams and our little family.
Three months later we found out we were expecting. Since then both of us have gone through moments of happiness and excitement and moments of fear and uncertainty. I'm learning that these instances are all part of the journey. We have had to modify our original plans to fit the twist of starting a family. Nate has had to give up the dream of going to USU to commute via train to the U of U. I will be working and baby will have to be in the care of family and friends for more time than either of us would like. We probably won't be homeowners as quickly as we originally hoped, nor be as financially secure as we would like. What we both know and understand is that God wants us to start our family. We are doing it together and even though it might be hard and difficult we trust that we will be stronger because of it. We still have goals and plans for our life together; the only difference is they now include a tiny baby girl. I get to learn how to balance being a mom and teacher at the same time. When we finally move into that house some day, we get to decorate a room just for her. And Baby Goodness will be in all of Nate's graduation pictures when he reaches that milestone.
I think this is the reason that I didn't feel rushed to start a family when Nate and I got married. I expressed to him multiple times that I wanted both of us to be done with school, have stable jobs, and even travel a bit before starting a family. He never really objected and we went along with that plan happily for about a year. In March of 2018 I started to question our original plan. I kept getting the strong impression that we needed to start praying about when it would be a good time to start a family. Now, one odd trait about me is that when I feel prompted to pray about something, I often avoid doing so for fear of what the answer might be. I was terrified to ask God what he wanted us to do, for fear that his plan might interfere with my own.
Meanwhile, I had been having a recurring dream. My Grandpa John had passed away the summer before and I kept having this dream about him. He would be sitting in a lawn chair in Grandma's backyard and I would always run up to him, give him a hug, and proceed to tell him how much I missed him and love him. The dream always felt very real. I knew when I woke up that it had really been Grandpa. He would always smile and nod, but didn't say much. I was always grateful for the opportunity to see him, and often felt that he was looking out for me and loved me enough to take the time to come and say hello. I continued to have this same dream for months and didn't really think much of it.
Then one day, around the end of May an older gentleman made a comment in Sunday school. The topic was something along the lines of having the courage to do God's will. He talked about a grandaughter who, like me, was the oldest in her family and who, like me, had been hesitant to start a family because of the responsibility that comes along with it. He then went on to talk about how the little girl that came to their family has been such a joy and a blessing to this grandaughter and her family. As I sat there listening to him, I remember thinking "No way. That's me. How does he know I'm worried about that?" Later that day I told Nate about the experience and confessed that I had been feeling like we needed to pray about it. He said he had been having similar promptings, and after talking over all of my fears we decided to start praying.
While we did decide to start praying about it, I often would "forget" conveniently to mention our question in daily prayers. We went on like this for about two weeks when, on the Saturday before Father's Day, I had that same dream about my Grandpa. This time when I woke up, I had that same thought of gratefulness for the opportunity to see him. Right as I had that thought I got the distinct impression, "You know, he's not just coming to say hi when you have that dream. He needs to tell you something. He won't tell you unless you ask." I remember feeling shocked, and worried at this. I immediately decided that if I had the dream again I would ask, and worried that the opportunity to pose the question wouldn't come.
The next day Nate and I were at Grandma's house. It was a weird day, seeing as it was the first Father's Day we had spent as a family without Grandpa. My thoughts turned to him often, and my mind constantly turned back to the dream wondering what it was that he needed to tell me. After nearly everyone had left, I was outside watching Nate and some cousins play basketball. Grandma came up, put her arm around me, and handed me a picture book. I took one look at the cover and started to cry.
Grandma said, "I want you to have this, and to give it to your dad when he becomes a Grandpa." I started to shake my head in response but she pressed, "You gave it to Grandpa a few years back, he'd want you to have it."
Smiling I took the book and said thanks. The book was titled "How to Babysit a Grandpa", and as I thumbed through it I remembered that I had in fact gave Grandpa the book. More than the book itself was the realization of what God, Grandpa, and the Spirit had been trying to tell me. The tears flowed quicker as I realized what this meant for me, Nate, and all of our plans.
Later that night I filled Nate in. We talked about how starting a family could, and likely would, change our plans. We worried about what would happen if I got pregnant immediately, and, ironically, worried about how we would handle not getting pregnant for a longer period of time. We both felt the importance of following the strong impressions we had recieved. We understood that we would have to give things up, and make sacrifices for our dreams and our little family.
Three months later we found out we were expecting. Since then both of us have gone through moments of happiness and excitement and moments of fear and uncertainty. I'm learning that these instances are all part of the journey. We have had to modify our original plans to fit the twist of starting a family. Nate has had to give up the dream of going to USU to commute via train to the U of U. I will be working and baby will have to be in the care of family and friends for more time than either of us would like. We probably won't be homeowners as quickly as we originally hoped, nor be as financially secure as we would like. What we both know and understand is that God wants us to start our family. We are doing it together and even though it might be hard and difficult we trust that we will be stronger because of it. We still have goals and plans for our life together; the only difference is they now include a tiny baby girl. I get to learn how to balance being a mom and teacher at the same time. When we finally move into that house some day, we get to decorate a room just for her. And Baby Goodness will be in all of Nate's graduation pictures when he reaches that milestone.
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