“I wish we were a family of four kids,” Big E said ruefully as he was getting dressed this morning. “I wish there was another kid.”
“I do too, buddy,” I responded.
“Can we have another kid?” He asked me.
“I’m not sure. Mommy’s not the one that decides these things. God makes that decision.”
“Oh,” he said. I turned and walked out of the room as I felt the lump in my throat. “I just know we are never going to have another baby,” he called after me. I flopped down on my bed and closed my eyes.
After the ectopic, Tim and I discussed about what we would say to the kids. We decided to tell C, but we chose not to tell Big E until he is older. Our conversation with C went very well, but she has never really brought it up since then. I’m wondering now if we should have told Big E, but he is such a sensitive kid I didn’t want him so upset over something he couldn’t fix and couldn’t really grasp.
Every once in awhile I go online and check a pregnancy calculator to see how far along I would have been if I hadn’t miscarried. That probably isn’t the smartest decision, but when I’m sad I catch myself doing it. Today I would have been 31 weeks and 3 days along.
Tim took the crib down the other day and put it in the attic for storage. He had warned me he was going to do it, but I wasn’t prepared for how sad it would make me to walk into Baby E’s room and see the empty space it once occupied.
I wish I had a better answer for Big E this morning. I wish I could have held him and told him it would happen. But I don’t know. Maybe it will, maybe it won’t. But whatever God’s will is for our family, I know His plan and His timing are perfect, and in Him we can find the peace that passes understanding.