This last weekend went to my sister-in-laws house to visit with our family and their newest baby. Baby Owen.
Oli. Was. Obsessed.
He was constantly asking about Baby Owen. Or playing with Owen. Taking care of Owen. You won’t be able to see it, but he was on the side of every newborn picture taken of Owen. Obsessed.
To the point where he was more excited about the baby coming home than he was about me. He even wanted to hold the baby.
He was so proud of Owen. And it was overly clear that he is more than ready to be a big brother.
Except…he doesn’t get to be one. Not yet at least. And that breaks my heart. I know it will come someday, and I hope he is as excited about his baby as he was Owen, but now is just not our time.
This weekend got me thinking though.
Thinking about someday. Thinking about when he starts to ask all the hard questions. Because he will.
You see, while we haven’t sat Oli down and told him about how his 7 brothers or sisters died while they were in my tummy, we haven’t kept it hidden either.
So does Oliver know that we had 2 losses before he came to be? No, he doesn’t. Does he know that since he came into the world, we’ve had 5 more losses? That I don’t know.
Like I said, I’ve never sat him down and said, “Son, even though you’re only 3 years old, you’ve have 7 brothers or sisters who have all died.” I just don’t feel like his little heart (or brain) is ready to comprehend that babies can die before they are born. I’m not even ready to comprehend that if I’m being honest.
But I honor my 7 other children pretty often. I have a necklace with charms that have Oliver’s name along with due dates of all the others. Along with a few other pieces of jewelry. Each baby has a stocking at Christmas, never to be filled. I’m working on a due date sign to use in our house and in some family pictures.
They are all part of my family. My complete family, with 8 children. And it has been difficult to decipher how much and when to tell Oli about it all.
So at the moment, here’s the conversations we are having with my toddler.
God provides babies.
We talk about this often. Oliver knows that babies come from God, and God alone. And he knows that God provides babies on His time.
We have to pray every single day for our baby.
I know without a doubt, that at the age of 3, my son has more faith than I can fathom. And since our conversation, he has prayed for a baby every single night before bed without fail. He already know that God hears his prayers and will provide.
Even if God doesn’t provide a baby, He is still good.
God’s plans don’t always match ours. So while we pray for a baby every day, I am trying to weave other things into the conversation. That even if we don’t ever get another baby, God is still good. Lack of baby doesn’t mean that God doesn’t love us or that God isn’t faithful.
One day, Oli will ask me the hard questions. He will ask about the stockings, or my jewelry, or the date sign on the wall. And when that day comes, I’ll tell him all about his brothers and sisters and how, someday, when we get to heaven, we will get the chance to meet each and every one of them. And it will be the greatest day ever.
But until that day comes, I’m doing everything in my power to preserve his innocence and his child-like faith.