I tried to be the perfect mom. I almost died. Part the first.

It's been exactly two years and one day since I last blogged. A few things have changed. For one, I'm writing this while sitting in a NICU room.

A quick update on our lives in the last two years to set the stage.

Baba and Baby are both in high school now. Baba made the varsity soccer team as a freshman, which then justified the previous ten years of sportsing in my mind. (this matters for explaining my mentality later). Baba is known as "Beast Mode" on the soccer pitch herself and has hopes of making the varsity squad as a freshman herself. Although she likes the option of booku playing time should she make the JV squad.

Mac is the most sensitive of all my children. He is the most aware of others needs and really is the peacemaker in the family. He's not as aggressive on the sports field, he clearly thinks his moves out and often ends up about half a second behind the action as a result. Which frustrates him, but I kinda enjoy because I can see his mind working away.  He's found that martial arts is the best speed for him and he's very invested in it.

X-Man. X-Man is my little hero who drives me bat guano crazy. X-Man has some sensory challenges which we have been working through in multiple therapies. His schedule is rough and busy as a result of these, but he makes the most of his opportunities. These take up a lot of our time and are the main reason I stopped blogging. His working through his various challenges is his story, not mine and he doesn't need me sharing it all over the internet. But I will say, the boy can swim something fierce.

Gestated Cinco is seis now. She is basically an anime character in the flesh. She mostly uses the power of her massive brown eyes for good. Mostly. She runs the house. When she grows up, she told me she wants to be a soccer player or a nail person. Not construction, but beautification. She's very girly girl, including when she plays soccer on a boys soccer team. Efficient and to the point. She got tired of having to out run and out muscle six year old boys who REALLY didn't want a girl to out score them. So she perfected her chip shot and just took to shooting it over their heads.

Oh and we added a dog the the mix. We adopted a golden retriever, who was four years old at the time. She's ideal, except the the shedding. The shedding is......insane. And I say this as mom to Baby who has ten pounds of hair on her head.

And now there's D'Garebear. Who is kangarooing away as I write. Snuggled up next to my heart. Where he belongs, but where he wasn't always welcomed.

The Father Figure and I have been married 18 years. We began the year with five children. We have a pretty good idea how all these tax credits ended up in our lives. I'm not the best at biology, but I do know we don't typically reproduce by spores. I say typically because well, I don't know how D'Garebear got here. Medically speaking....he couldn't have. Yet, I'm pretty sure he's real. His dirty diapers are real. I know age can do some interesting things to both the male and female reproductive systems, but spontaneously reproducing shouldn't be one of them. But whatever, the boy is here, warm and snuggly and the spitting image of the Father Figure so we all know who to blame.

I wish I had a better story to tell, one that involved surprise babies and happy cuddly feelings. There's a surprise baby for sure, but lots of tears and despair. Truly despair. My plate was super full, too full and I still don't know how on earth I am going to do this. Love is infinite, but time, energy and life is very finite. And my children need me. X-Man in particular needs me. But they all do. And it's hard with a big family.

I wanted to be a "different" large family. I did not want my kids to "pay the price" for being one of many. As parents we all want to give our kids the world, and to make the most out of every opportunity, and just because the father figure and I chose multiply the heck out of our fertility, I didn't want our children to pay the price. I wanted them to be able to do the activities they wanted, have the freedom to explore things and in general enjoy growing up. I was determined to not make my girls substitute moms and exploit them for free labor. Considering how they do their chores around the house, this was NEVER going to actually be an issue. I didn't want them to resent or regret anything growing up. I was raised in a large family and I have great memories. I wanted them to have the same and maybe even be open to having a bigger family of their own because it was a positive in their mind.

But, I have a good grasp of my limitations and I knew five children was stretching my abilities. I wasn't homeschooling all five, X-Man might be the only child in the world who actually does attend public school for the socialization. Which, well....the benefits for him still outweigh the rather alarming things he hears on the playground. But he also returns with such gems as --post a MLK lesson---"I have peach skin. Because my skin is furry like a peach." Baby and Baba take some courses at the local high school too. Because I know my limits. I write this sitting in a NICU with a sixth child. I know my limits and I abide by my limits are two different things.

So, in a nutshell, I wanted my children's lives to be perfect because they deserved nothing less. Which is an entirely reasonable life goal.

So D'Garebear shows up. And I was not just unhappy, I was truly miserable. The father figure, who is not one for exaggeration, told me it was a scary dark place. Now, I realize a large part of this was due to a placenta that was actively poisoning me. Which is a relief in way. But I did not want another child in my life. Because I KNEW I could not give him what I wanted to. And I KNEW I could not give my others what they deserved.

I've thought a bit about putting these thoughts to "paper" where any of my kiddos, but especially D'Garebear could find them. I've decided I should. Because some day, each and every one of them will hit a crisis in their lives. Something will go wrong. Their plans will be upended. And they will have to make a choice.

I hope they choose to embrace the unknown, plow through the doubt, ignore the fear. Even if that means refusing to tell anyone they're pregnant because denial keeps the worry at bay. Even if that means forcing themselves to wear non maternity clothes, augmented with rubber bands at the waist, because if you're not in maternity clothes, you're not really pregnant. I hope they do what they need to do to keep putting a foot forward and staying in the moment. Fixing the immediate problem and believing and trusting that those greater looming issues will crest before crushing them.

I hope they choose to live and love not because some kitchy barn house chic sign says so, but because there really is no other way. Nothing else matters if you can chose to will good for others in your life.

And D'Garbear, you are not in this family because we needed you or we wanted you. You are in this family because Someone, before the dawn of time, saw you. He saw you, little tiny you struggling to learn to breathe on your own. He saw your frightened and worried mom, holding you in awe. He saw you, big strong man who gives X-Man a run for his money. He saw you and He called you good. And He willed the good that is you into existence. And that, my boy, is why you are here.

It's not an accident that your name means "full of goodness" even though we didn't know it when we picked it.

And it's not an accident that we see your presence in our lives as a gift. Not something we needed, not something we thought we were missing. But something good given to us despite our shortcomings.

You're part of our family because before time, Someone saw all of us together and called it good. What more could anyone want?