Babies: Burden or Blessing?

My baby turned 2 years old last week and we had a huge celebration! But I will never forget the day I discovered I was expecting him, Baby #10.

It was a cool fall day just after school started. Staring at the positive pregnancy test in the privacy of my bathroom my heart sank and I immediately felt overwhelmed. I could hear my nine noisy busy children out in the kitchen chattering and making dinner.

I had good reason to feel overwhelmed. My youngest daughter was three, and for the first time in 18 years I had a "completely-potty-trained-put-on-your-own-shoes-feed-yourself-mostly-self-sufficient household." Eight of my children had gone back to school that month, and during the previous week I had relished the three hours of quiet I enjoyed every day while they were gone. In many ways I felt that my life was just beginning. I knew that I would finally be able to keep up on housework and even have time for some personal projects. Also, I was just a few weeks away from turning 41. Socially, I was just too old to have a baby.

My busy husband was gone that revelatory day—which wasn’t unusual. I cried a few tears and wondered what he would say about this new development. Deep down I knew that he would be compassionate. But whatever his reaction to our upcoming baby, the bulk of the burden—at least physically and emotionally—would be mine to bear.

Wiping away my tears and taking a deep breath I left my bedroom and went out to the kitchen to finish making dinner, trying to look as if a major catastrophe hadn’t just happened. But although my face was placid, my mind didn’t stop turning. Now we would have a baby the same month our oldest son graduated from high school. (What would it be like attending a high school graduation while being massively pregnant?) Our oldest would also likely only meet his sibling for a few weeks before leaving on a mission. I had been planning on teaching preschool the following fall to benefit my toddler—the last (I had thought) who would need me at home until she left for kindergarten. Finally, our trip to the upcoming World Scout Jamboree in Japan—where I had served my mission—had been on the calendar for two years already. How could such a trip possibly work now? Would I take a tiny baby with me across the ocean?

But the largest looming question was, “How would I deal with the physical strain of pregnancy?” My pregnancies had become increasingly difficult with age and I dreaded the nausea and exhaustion that I knew would overwhelm me. All of these questions and more plagued me that evening.

I kept my secret to myself for the next few days. Trying to act normal. Trying not to raise any flags with my husband and family. Trying to adjust to the idea:  10 children. And I prayed. At first I prayed, “Please remove this trial from me. Please let the pregnancy test be wrong. Please don’t make me go through this again. I’ve done my part.” This tenth pregnancy felt like a tremendous burden that I must bear.

A week later my husband and I went to the temple and I determined that it was time to break the news to him. Once inside the chapel I took his arm and whispered in his ear, “I need to tell you something.”

He smiled and looked at me. “You don’t need to tell me anything. I already know.” Then he hugged me.

“What do you think?” I asked cautiously.

“It’s all going to be ok. In fact, it’s exciting!” he said.

Exciting? I hadn’t anticipated that he would be excited, but he was. He was genuinely happy! And suddenly, it occurred to me that a baby wasn’t a burden. A baby was a blessing. That evening as we renewed our temple covenants the thought pressed upon me stronger and stronger: A baby is a blessing!

The next few weeks and months were busy and definitely not easy. I was sick. I threw up. I slept. I was exhausted. Again and again and again. As I bent over my bucket each night I often prayed, “Remove this trial from me.” And yet, despite the agony, I felt a tiny bit of hope and peace as I remembered that evening in the temple. This baby would be a blessing.

Other thoughts came during those months, too. When we first heard the heartbeat I cried with joy.

“Why am I crying?” I wondered. With my first baby it would be natural to feel thrilled, but my 10^th? Yes. On my tenth. I felt the same joy on hearing the heartbeat of my tenth baby as I had on my first. And then I realized and was grateful, “Heavenly Father loves all of us, his last children as well as his first.” I loved this last child as much as I had loved my first. Multiple pregnancies didn’t dilute the experience. They enhanced it.

I also came to understand another truth. Every child is important. When I saw our ultrasound images I understood again that this was a real child. A human being, growing and developing inside of me. Why would I ever wish this baby away? No. I would not.

My resolve grew even more when we told our children about their upcoming sibling. I was lying on the couch after losing my dinner (again) and felt weak and depleted. We had to tell them what was going on.

“A baby?” they replied as we broke the news to them. Their eyes were wide with surprise and delight. And then the chatter happened. “I’ll be a dad by the time he gets baptized.” “Now we’ll have an even dozen people in our family.”  “I’ll be in high school when he goes to kindergarten!” They were completely thrilled and I was surprised. The announcement was better than Christmas.

As my pregnancy progressed so did my understanding. Children were not an appendage purpose in life—an experience that comes and goes on our mortal journey. Children were the purpose of life. Truths I maybe should have understood with my nine previous children were suddenly so real and clear to me that I wondered how I had missed them before. It was a privilege to bring another child into the world.

We met a group of good friends at dinner one night. “You’re expecting?” Some were shocked. Some were speechless. A few were as excited as we were. “I’m the tenth child in my family,” one delighted friend told me. “I’m from a family of 10 children,” another told me. Those who understood our situation best were those who had experienced it themselves. For them, there was no embarrassment or apology in having ten children, only joy and gratitude.

The words quoted by Neil L. Andersen in October 2011 often came to my mind: "Motherhood is not a hobby, it is a calling. You do not collect children because you find them cuter than stamps. It is not something to do if you can squeeze the time in. It is what God gave you time for."

Our sweet baby was born at 33 weeks.  On a wondrously exciting and scary evening he came suddenly into the world. One moment I was lying on the couch, wondering how I could possibly stand up and walk to bed, and then, just a few hours later, I was no longer big and burdened but had a newborn babe to love. As quickly as the night was dark it became light and hopeful and joyful. In fact, the change to joy was so complete and sudden that I still cannot fully comprehend or explain it.

My joy at seeing our new baby boy was equaled by the joy of my husband and our nine children. The feelings we felt as a family cannot be articulated or recorded. This baby was a tremendous blessing to us--all of us.

Miraculously, the timing of his birth was positively perfect. His early arrival ensured that I didn't go to a high school graduation huge and pregnant, and that his older brother spent three entire months with him before leaving on a mission.

There were other blessings, too. The dreaded physical challenges ended faster than I had initially anticipated, and looking back seemed like only a short time of sacrifice—a few months of discomfort and fatigue. The trials of the past year were suddenly entirely forgotten, as if in a dream that was no longer. As quickly as the pain and nausea came, they were gone, and I was left with a euphoria and gratitude that cannot be equaled. In fact, my original personal plans for the year seemed trite compared to the growth and reward I experienced.

And finally, how did our sweet Baby #10 survive on our trip to Japan? Miraculously. From the moment we arrived at the airport, through the long plane flights, train rides, sleeping in strange beds, eating strange foods, visiting with foreign friends and spending hours in the sweltering heat at the Scout jamboree, he was an absolute angel. 

Not only was he perfectly content and easy to care for, but his spirit drew people to us everywhere we went. Our experience was actually enhanced because we had a small baby with us, just as life is. What once looked like a terrible trial actually became an amazing blessing.

And now our little blessing is two years old. I'm so grateful for this Baby #10. For this sweet little boy that has taught me lessons I needed to learn later in life.

I testify that the Lord loves us, the Lord loves His children, and the Lord has a plan to bring these children to the earth. When we participate in that plan our joy is magnified and increased in heavenly ways. Yes, babies are not a burden, they are a blessing.