25%...

Once insomnia hits me, there is nothing I can do about it. Unfortunately, I have to wait it out because quite honestly, sleeping pills scare me. I'm exhausted, but my mind is congested with too many thoughts. I'm blogging in hopes that my mind will be cleared of all of this traffic so I can finally sleep. I can't stop thinking a lot of things, but lately "25%" has consumed my mind.

I want another child. There...I've said it. I want another baby.

By no means am I trying to replace Ethan because my son is simply irreplaceable. I can't find the words to explain why I want another child, but I know something inside of me is telling me that Ethan was not meant to be my youngest.

Upon learning of "Another's" impending arrival, I began mentally preparing myself to raise more than two children. For months I prepared the boys for the arrival of their little brother. For months I worried, fantasized, and eagerly anticipated what it would be like to be outnumbered by three kids. I still have three children and the boys still have a little brother, but we just can't be with him right now. Once Ethan was gone and we learned that his deficiency was definitely genetic, I debated heavily about whether or not I wanted to have more children.

Ultimately I decided 25% chance or not, I am putting my faith in God that this won't happen to us again. There is a 75% chance that we'll have a child that isn't Factor VII Deficient so why should I obsess about 25%? That would be pessimistic. If I decided that I was too afraid that I'd lose another child, then I'd be a hypocrite for saying that I trust God.

Who am I to anticipate what God has planned for me? Who am I to say that Ethan was meant to be my last born? Who am I to say that losing my son was truly suffering?

Yes...it hurt to lose Ethan, but that would be looking at the glass as half empty. I find solace celebrating that Ethan was given to me in the first place. Glass half full right? I feel that I would be doing myself and the boys a great injustice if I called it quits due to fear. What message would that be sending the boys? What message am I sending Ethan?

God willing, Ethan will not be my last child. God willing, Ethan will be the first and last child I will lose. I have a feeling that my son is acting as my advocate up there in heaven. He is making me feel something that I can't possibly describe, but whatever it is...

I am not afraid.

I just have to wait and see what God's plan is for me.