The Best Laid Plans

Before Zack and I were married, back in the days when we would talk late into the night about our hopes and dreams for our family (before we got old and started going to bed by 9:30), we thought we would like to have a house full of girls (or at least 3). We were thrilled, therefore, with the arrival of our first child, a girl! When we found out that our second child would be a boy, we weren't disappointed. I had this idea that he would be a little boy sandwiched between a couple of sisters who would love and dote on him.

When I had an ultrasound midway through my third pregnancy, it was with excitement that I waited for the technician to tell me I was growing a little girl (because I was positive that I was). As I watched the screen, I felt a lump in my throat as I saw what (even with my very limited experience with mini, male anatomy), looked to be baby 'boy parts'. I looked up at the tech and, biting back tears said, "Is that what I think it is?", to which she responded as delicately as she could, "I'm afraid so". This was (I so very mistakenly thought) our last baby,

and I had my heart set on another girl. As we drove home, and talked to the other kids about what we should name this new baby brother, three year old Riley helped pull me out of my funk by suggesting Clifford (that's right... as in the Big Red Dog), and within a week or so I had thoroughly adjusted to the idea (the idea of a boy,that is... not one named Clifford), and looked forward to having another son.

We moved along with our lives thinking that our family was probably complete. Almost exactly a year later, however, as I once again gazed down at those two pink lines, I realized that our plans needed a little revision. This ultrasound proceeded in a similar fashion as the last... anticipation followed by disappointment, followed by an adjustment period, followed by excitement. Now we really thought we were done having babies. We had officially crossed over into the 'large family' category. Our house and our vehicles were feeling pretty full, while our pocket book was feeling pretty empty on one teacher salary.

Fast forward 4 years. Zack has now been an elementary principal for almost three years. I am transitioning back into the work force and have been working half time as a Title I reading teacher for almost a year. We live in a larger house. The vehicles are still pretty full, but there is still room to squeeze in a couple of friends. The pocket book isn't quite so empty. Things are feeling pretty good... and along come those dang pink lines again! I was shocked, disappointed, worried, and honestly still grieving the loss of my father - it had been just over 6 months since the accident. Throw a few raging hormones into the mix and, to put it plainly, I was an emotional train wreck. My sweet husband and closest friend deserve the credit for keeping me from flying completely off the deep end.

As the parents of five children, we definitely get some attention for being such a 'large' family. We get some funny looks at restaurants and even the occasional question about our religious affiliation. A family of our size is bound to draw plenty of eyebrow raises and the inevitable 'repeat'. By 'repeat' I mean the response I get when I say, "I have five children", and the individual, oh so intelligently replies, "You have five children?".

We started out as a young married couple with a picture in our minds of this family we wanted to create, and although the finished portrait isn't quite the one we had envisioned (it's a bit more crowded and there are more pants than dresses), it is a masterpiece to us, and we wouldn't change a thing. And just in case you're wondering, the picture is complete. We (and by we I mean Zack) have made things a bit more foolproof and permanent. I mean, after I gave birth to five babies, it's the least he could do, don't ya think?