One of the hard things about being in a new place, is meeting new people. I don’t actually dread the meeting people part, that part I enjoy, it’s the question I am asked every time that is difficult…..
How many kids do you have?
I knew a conference we went to recently was going to be hard due to this question, but I survived the question and answered it more times than I could count.
It seems like an innocent question, and one I’ve asked a thousand women myself, an ideal conversation starter, but for me it’s a constant reminder that we are without one of our blessings.
Currently most people ask me what number this baby makes, that question isn’t hard to answer. It’s the follow up ones, what ages are they? Are they all boys? “Oh where is your third, I only see two?”
Some days it’s easier, other moments the tears well up like we lost Seth yesterday.
Comments like…”You must have a busy house.”
“Wow another little boy.”
All are yet reminders that yes we have a full house but there is one voice missing.
These are the things I’m learning to embrace as normal. It’s the life I’ve been blessed with and it’s a constant balance of discerning how much to share with those I meet.
I’m thankful that I’m a mom to 4 boys, even if that simple question might bring tears to my eyes for years to come.