Last week, I gave birth to our fourth and final baby. Four kids in six years. I'm 27 years old and done having babies. And by "done" I mean "I don't ever want to be pregnant again." I loved being pregnant and having babies, but I found that my grace for that season of life dissipated very quickly as my little Levi entered the world last week.
And although I feel so "done," I really feel happy. We've always wanted four children. I've always had this feeling in the back of my mind that my family was not quite complete. I was obviously thankful for my children and definitely enjoyed life with each of them (life with our three was actually quite easy-going and fun), but it just felt like someone was missing.
It may seem totally silly, but I've never bought or made Christmas stockings. I didn't want to have "different" ones when the final members were added. After waiting almost 9 years, I'm getting stockings this year, and I'm so excited about it. I don't even know what I want them to look like, but they will be awesome.
All six of them.
Hanging over my fireplace.
With each person's name.
They will be complete.
No one missing.
And my heart is happy and full and thankful and so in love with my husband and children.