Today I had a pre-op appointment with my OB. I’m getting my tubes tied and torching my uterus next week. My mom keeps asking me if I know if I’m sure that we are done having kids. This is something I know for sure.

We. Are. Done.

I’ve written this blog post several different ways by now. There’s no way I can put this without sounding terrible to at least one group of people. I have friends who have two kids and would KILL to have four. I know people who have four and would have loved to have more but did not have the ability. I know people who have had one kid or zero and are fine with that. I think it all goes back to shifting our expectations from what we thought should have been, to what is.

What is isn’t always as terrible as we think it would be.

(I’m going to go off topic for a second here because I reminded myself of something. Today in the waiting room I saw a bunch of pregnant chicks. I wondered how many of them thought that having a child with Down syndrome would be the worst thing in the world. I wanted to hold Abby up for them like the monkey did on the Lion King (ten points to whoever names the monkey first without googling it) and show them my sweet, smiling, perfect little girl. Tell them how beautiful having Abby has made my life. It’s not the worst thing. It’s quite possibly up there with the very best things in life)

So we are done. I started to feel it as Abby’s due date got closer. It was a weird feeling for me. Lance and I originally wanted 7. S e v e n k i d s . That was, of course, before we had any. But it didn’t really change. After each baby I have always felt VERY strongly that there were more. But even before we knew of the special challenges Abby would have, I felt like we were okay with not having any more. It wasn’t that I was particularly happy about this. I would have loved to have at least one more. Round out my basketball team. Live the dream. What have you. But like I said, it’s about shifting expectations.

My mom keeps saying that I’m very young to make such a decision. She’s absolutely right. I don’t know any one my age who has been sterilized (cool word, huh? I get to use it. And I’m going to. A lot). I also don’t know anyone who has a child with autism and a child with Down syndrome. And Peyton (who I kid a lot about because I can. I love that boy with ever fiber of my being). She thinks that maybe in five or ten years (she had me when she was in her late thirties, and I have two younger siblings) I might seriously regret this decision…but that’s why prayer is so cool. I don’t know what the rest of my life will bring. I do know it’s not going to be easy. It’s going to be good. But God does. He knows that I have my hands full as it is, and has given me a very strong peace that He’s okay with us being done. That’s all I need to feel. Because, in the end, I know that my prayers are answered and if I do what I am told in those answers, I will be happy. This I know for sure.