It was 2:00 in the morning and I was still awake. They called it morning sickness, but of course I learned quickly that it is an all day, every day feeling of nausea coupled with many trips to the bathroom. On this particular night, I was lying on the bathroom floor crying, wondering when it would end.
From the first moment I could remember, I wanted to be a mom. I wanted to have a big family. I wanted the intense chaos, camaraderie, teamwork, and compassion that come from living under the same roof as six or seven other people bonded together by their loving parents. I wondered how many girls I would have, how many boys I would have, and I picked out all my favorite names. I played house and dreamt about how I would decorate their rooms. When I got married in my late 20s, I was eager to finally start this large family I had so desperately wanted. But then everything changed. Struggling immensely with near-constant vomiting, I didn't worry so much about this morning sickness being over but about having to make the decision over and over again to voluntarily go through this experience. I hoped that I was pregnant with twins or triplets so I could knock out my whole family in one pregnancy. For me, my morning sickness was not just a temporary illness; it was a crushing blow to a childhood dream.
Then when my beautiful daughter was born, she was very colicky and sent me spiraling. I sincerely asked mothers how they did it--how did they leave the house, how did they shower and get ready in the morning, how did they maintain not only a smile but their sanity? I struggled to get out the door in the morning with one baby--how in the world could you do it with one or more other children in tow?
I found going back to work a relief. I felt more relaxed and productive. I was happy to get up and going in the morning. I missed my daughter just enough that when I was with her it didn't seem like a burden, it was fun. I never took a moment with her for granted because I didn't seem tethered to the house or to her whimsy or will. She became my best buddy. I loved our family dynamic, but I knew she could benefit from a sibling. She is incredibly social, like me, and I think being an only child would be hard for her. The love that I felt for my daughter propelled me to decide to get pregnant one more time. (I know some mothers say they can do it again because they forget how hard it was. Believe me, I remember how painfully hard every minute was, but I got through knowing that it was the absolute last time I would do it.)
Fast forward to this year: my family welcomed our second and final child. My son has a much more easy going presence than my daughter, but I still know my family is complete. I wish that I could be the type of mother who could handle getting pregnant six times, raising six very different kids at different stages of life, and giving them all the individual attention they each need. But I've realized I can't and that's okay. I watch with admiration my friends and family with four or more children and how they are able to juggle the needs of each of their children. I am still learning how to do that with two, but I am comfortable with the dynamic of our little family of four and I know it strikes the right balance for me of being able to give each child the attention they need and deserve while also maintaining my sanity.
I've learned, through lots of tears along the way, that it is okay not to turn into the person you thought you'd become with the things you thought you'd have or want. It is okay to love working outside the home. It is ok to feel overwhelmed with one child and certainly more. I've learned to really listen to my instincts and not to make decisions based on what family, friends, or society expects from me. I am confident in our family size, and I think it will afford us opportunities with travel and other activities that my children would not otherwise have. I think if there's one thing I learned from this experience it is that each mom is different and is led to different choices for intelligent reasons, and we should support other moms in those decisions rather than judging their outcomes based on experiences we know nothing about.
Sara and her husband Zach have two children, daughter Madeleine and son Lennon. They call Salt Lake City, Utah home. The couple met in law school and in addition to wife and mother, Sara is a practicing attorney. She loves cooking and dreams of one spending retirement preparing gourmet breakfasts, lunches, and dinners in a professional at-home kitchen. Sara deserves much more than a mom salute for delivering baby Lennon, who weighed just a few ounces shy of 12 pounds at birth.
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