little black journal

We had some family photos taken by a friend when Isaac was a couple of weeks old and I’ve been going through them this week, having some prints made to hang around the house. I wanted my faves to have a spot on the blog – I love them so much and Julia deserves a proper shout-out!  Also, not to saddle these pics with too much meaning, but I’m feeling some big emotions as I flip through these and am finding them to be a bittersweet bow to tie on our status as a family of four. Shane and I have decided (decided before Isaac was born, actually) that this is it. No more kiddos. We just don’t have the energy or the space in our schedules for another little one. I don’t have the will to play any more rounds of the infertility waiting game. We want time for our whole family to hit the slopes together or tour Europe together before Juliette is grown and leaves the nest. And let’s face it – we’re no spring chickens. Shane spends his evenings with a heating pad wrapped around his elbow and my knees crackle like a bowl of Rice Krispies when I get up from the floor.

Four is good. Four is perfect.

Don’t get me wrong – it’s hard to accept that I will never again experience the euphoria of childbirth or the other-worldly sweetness of those early newborn days. It’s hard not to wonder what might have been had we not waited so long to commit to IVF. It’s hard to part with all of Juliette’s precious little baby dresses, knowing they’ll never be worn by a child of ours. There’s a bit of heartache in the closing of this door.

Because dang, I love being a mom. I love being a mom more than I love anything else on God’s green earth. So I’m going to Mom the bejeezus out of these two kids. I’m going to do my rounds before I go to bed each night and lean over Isaac’s crib for a moment to just soak in the sight of his splayed-out arms (I don’t dare touch a sleeping baby) and then tiptoe into Juliette’s room to adjust her blankets just-so and kiss her on the forehead (sound-sleeping eight year-olds are the best). I’m going to kiss Isaac’s chubby cheeks each morning and then tuck his head into the crook of my neck after I scoop him out of his crib, cooing a dozen “I love you, Buddy’s”. And I’m going to smile as I drop off Juliette at her first school-friend slumber party this Friday, because there can even be joy in watching your kids grow and become more independent (or so I’ve heard).

Isaac is most certainly going to grow up faster than I want him to (already, I hardly recognize this skinny little babe!), and I’m going to get all weepy and sentimental at each birthday, but then I’ll remember that Juliette has shown me that there are always plenty of good times up ahead.

Oh, and I am 100% taking this girl to Paris someday.

And fingers crossed, I’m going to watch these two keep up this love-fest, which has already made for some of the happiest moments of my life.

Four is good.