Even in the very early days of our dating, my husband and I would often talk about marriage. Specific topics of discussion during these talks would often include our visions for our family, including how many children we’d have, and how far apart in age they would be.
When my husband had first mentioned to me that he would like our children (at least the first two) to be closer together than two to three years apart, as was my vision, I thought he was crazy. But shortly before and especially after the birth of our first son, I began to have second thoughts.
It was around this time that I began to meet people who’d had a second child within a year and a half of their first, and all of their stories were very much the same: it was a challenge at first, but as they got older, it was the best thing that happened for their family.
So the pros began to outweigh the cons for me, and my husband and I began planning for the next step for our new little family.
When I went into this, I had the idea in my head that our next child would be a girl. I had always felt my first child would be a boy, so it only made sense in my mind that this inkling would become a reality for me. I even went so far as to purchase baby girl clothes and accessories (secondhand, of course, but still), save girly items I’d come across for the “Girl Power” Sprinkle I would have for her, complete with pink glitter and female super hero decor, the whole nine yards. And when I did fall pregnant, I found myself calling the baby “she” and “her” without giving it a second thought.
So when I went to the gender reveal ultrasound and found out “she” was a he, I was devastated.
I fell into a deep depression that weekend into the following week, crying nonstop for days and days. I couldn’t understand what had gone wrong. Did I wait too long? Did I not wait long enough? I was heartbroken, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t shake myself out of the disappointed funk I’d found myself in.
I talked to my husband in length about this, and expressed my disappointment to friends and family. Most of my family members who share my faith reminded me of the same thing: God doesn’t give us what we want, He gives us what we need (see Jeremiah 29:11).
“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose,” Romans 8:28 says. When things don’t go according to our plan, we can rest assured they are going according to His, and we all know His plans are perfect.
I know this next child is a blessing, and he wouldn’t be here if God didn’t have a vision for him in our lives and eventually in his own. And I’m happy to announce the rest of the scan went more or less perfectly, as perfect as anything in this world can be, and he is on the right track to becoming a healthy bouncing baby boy.
And yet, I was still thinking about what could have been, convinced that I’d be happier if things had gone my way.
Isaiah 55:8-9 says, “My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts, says the Lord. And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine. For just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so my ways are higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than yours.” I’ve found a lot of comfort in this passage recently. Again, God sees what we can’t, and He gives us what He sees is fit for our purpose for His plan, whether or not it’s what we were hoping for ourselves.
It’s about a month later, and I’m still struggling a little bit. I still get sad and admittedly a little envious when I see my family and friends’ baby girls. But I just have to keep reminding myself these little girls are part of God’s plan for them, and my little boys are part of God’s plan for me.
I know in my heart of hearts when Michael Antonio Ruiz gets here, I won’t be able to imagine life without him.
Maybe someday I’ll be able to have that Girl Power sprinkle, if it is God’s will. In the meantime, I will enjoy my growing young family, and thank God for the blessings He’s given me.