We joked the day that the Lion was born, we could open up a business called Victor & Sons. Well, now Victor & Sons is expanding… We’re expecting number three. Again. I’m three months along, which makes us due in September, and of course we’re going to find out the sex. This pregnancy feels like success this time. I have all the symptoms I had with the boys, so this time we’re celebrating a pregnancy that sticks!

Once in the lobby, the boys ran straight to decorated tree with wrapped presents underneath. They inquired about the gifts, and then began to run in circles, literally. We arrived at church just before dinner, so they boys were hungry as service came to an end. The Lion even found a tray of Eucharist and took it upon himself to have a snack. I grabbed the body out of his mouth and handed it to Hubby.

As service ended, a wonderful older woman approached us who was also sitting in the lobby during service, and she shared the following. She told us that we had normal, healthy boys. This comment resonated with me. It was truly special and meaningful. She had three boys, and she had been where we were. So many times I look at other folks’ kids who are not running around, and I think, what is wrong with me? What’s wrong with my kids? Why can’t I be a perfect parent? But in reality, this idyllic perfect parent is just a myth.

Recently, I had begun to feel like I was leaning more towards inadequacy, rather than success. I made up my mind I was going to buy some parenting books, and set a plan in place. Saturday evening, after church, we went to Mardel’s Christian Bookstore and I picked up the Five Languages of Children. As we walked around the store, we saw Christian and educational tools we will use the decorate the boys’ playroom. I am excited to have a plan in place, as long as God is directing its path. Funny story, Gadget keeps asking if it’s Christmas yet. When I asked him what he thought Christmas was about, he clearly stating, “getting toys.” I am learning that his response does not mean that I am a failure as a parent, rather, I can continue to grow to be a faithful parent.

Leslie Leyland Fields writes about The Myth of the Perfect Parent on ChristianityToday.com. She writes about seeking advice, and feeling inadequate. She talks about some parents being obsessed with successful parenting; how we avoid the “slacker mom” title, but in doing so, we drive ourselves crazy with anxiety. We induce a parent panic because we think our children will be failures. Failures in school, with their relationships, their families, their bodies, their careers… We desire for our kids to be spiritual champions – no, spiritual giants. I think that because I nearly exclusively breastfeed my children for six months that I am a good mom- that’s what a perfect and successful mom does, right? Yes, this what I did for them, but I have so much to learn about what it means to be a faithful mom.

From Fields’ article,

One writer warns mothers that they must watch all they say and do, because their child’s mind, “like a videotape recorder,” is “carefully transcribing every word, right down to the tone of voice and facial expression.” To up the stakes further, he cautions that a child’s mind and “emotional patterns” may be firmly established by the time he is 2, a “sobering realization for mothers,” he intones.

Am I the perfect parent? No. I will parent imperfectly.

The question we ask of ourselves must be reframed. We need to quit asking, “Am I parenting successfully?” And we most certainly need to quit asking, “Are others parenting successfully?” Instead, we need to ask, “Am I parenting faithfully?” Faithfulness, after all, is God’s highest requirement for us.

The Bible says that perfection is of God, its what we have in Christ, His perfection is our standard, as saints we’re commanded to aim at it, but we should not claim it. The Bible adds, perfection is impossible of attaining to, patience leads to it, and we should pray for it. In conclusion:

We are not sovereign over our children—only God is. Children are not tomatoes to stake out or mules to train, nor are they numbers to plug into an equation. They are full human beings wondrously and fearfully made. Parenting, like all tasks under the sun, is intended as an endeavor of love, risk, perseverance, and, above all, faith. It is faith rather than formula, grace rather than guarantees, steadfastness rather than success that bridges the gap between our own parenting efforts, and what, by God’s grace, our children grow up to become.

Hubby had made the boys Nutella sandwiches for dinner, and Gadget had never tasted Nutella before. He took one bite and turned and said “Daddy, this is junk!” And proceeded to eat the entire sandwich for dinner. I have trained him well. Sort of.

I have been trying not to get my hopes up with this child, but last night I had a dream that I cannot shake off. I dreamt that this little bonnet in the oven was our first girl, and she arrived in this world complication free. We were actually at home, and after she come out, I was able to get up and walk around! Talk about a dream! Immediately, I was full with nourishment and nursed her. Why would I dream that? Now, I am so excited about that possibility coming true, but… I don’t have symptoms #1 through #9, so I don’t know what to feel.

I have anticipation for being pregnant again, and I was a bit reluctant to celebrate, but after this dream I want it. I want it bad. I want to feel a baby swirling inside of me. I want the intimacy of my baby always being with me, growing in me, and feeling me. I want an infant, a cute little infant. The biggest joy of my dream was that I had a little girl. I had a mini me. I was soooo joyful in that dream. And now I wonder, was it just a dream? Or will this be my reality in September?

What do I do? Do I bombard the nearest lab and take HCG test after test monitoring my hormones. I think back to our last miscarriage. The pregnancy started out symptom free. So much so, I didn’t realize I was pregnant until my belly button started popping at eight weeks (I was still nursing eight month old Gadget at the time). This fifth pregnancy mirrors our second miscarriage so much how can I proceed on hope, when my body speaks loss to me so clearly.

I went to Target the other day and walked through the baby section. I looked for the purple dress I was going to dress my first daughter in (yes purple, never pink), and I almost bought a cute little something. But then I put it back, because imagine the heartache staring at it after yet another miscarriage. A third miscarriage. Are these really becoming common place in my life? Loss, baby, loss, baby, loss… I don’t like that trend.

Living in limbo is hard. You would think seeing the words “pregnant” on the screen would be enough for celebration. Whooaaaaaa! I gotta pause for just one second. I just heard myself. I just heard the doubt wringing off of those words. I believe the scripture says, Hope is the evidence of things unseen. I have absolutely no evidence this pregnancy will progress healthily. I don’t know what God’s plan is for this child. I don’t know if chromosomal abnormalities exist, and God took her life yesterday in a week or two, but I have been charged to believe God’s word and to live it. Right now, I am walking in faith that this baby will grow inside of me for forty weeks and arrive on this earth as a healthy and beautiful daughter. Period.