Children
Not By Accident
by Cherie
Logan
My oldest daughter is now 18. She is a beautiful young woman who loves the Lord and rejoices in the life she has experienced. She leaves our home in the family car to attend the LDS Institute of Religion at the college. She laughs with friends. She recommits herself weekly to represent her Savior. Long blonde hair hides those cute ears that poke out just a tad bit. When she was a baby, loving friends would suggest that she reminded them of LDS President, Spencer W. Kimball because of those remarkable ears.
My youngest daughter has just learned to crawl. She is 7 months old and brings a smile to everybody's face. Her hair might become brown, perhaps will be dark blonde. We won't know if it will be straight or curly for at least 2 more years as my children are late in the hair department. Her ears are a beautiful copy of her oldest sister's. None of the other children were so blessed, but these two...opposite ends of the scale...a visual reminder that they are sisters.
My heart tugs at the memory of Chani as a baby. I watch Chrystal and see my other daughter, 18 years ago, crawling around our tiny apartment. I see my baby cuddle with her daddy and drift off to sleep and I remember all the nights of walking a little first daughter who refused to sleep. I hear my baby call for her mommy to come to bed, time to sleep, time to settle down, time to nurse. I remember how young and inexperienced I was with that little baby of 18 years ago. How impossible I found sleeping with my daughter next to me. How many tears I cried as I learned how to nurse.
The comparison doesn't reverse. I cannot look at Chani and see Chrystal. I can plan and hope and prepare for raising and having an adult Chrystal, but I cannot see it. I cannot imagine her driving, or dating, or sharing wonderful plans and thoughts with me. Experience has brought me to this point with Chani but experience with Chrystal lies ahead. Today, I focus on protecting her from choking on something the vacuum missed or from getting past the gate that keeps her from the terrifying stairs. Today, I cuddle and concentrate on bedtime. Sometimes, worries of what might happen over another 20 years of a child's life sneak in on my concentration.
Chani and Chrystal are not my only children. In between the two extremes I have seven other children at various stages of development. Chani isn’t our first, he was born in January of 1979 and only lived two months. So our children span the length of two decades.
It is not by accident that I have had ten children. It was not an ‘oops', it was not a resigned religious action, it was not a self-centered attempt to find love. I just don't believe that husbands and wives who make the decision to have several children really fall into those categories. It is not due to ignorance of frightening possibilities, it is not because of lack of regard for difficult struggles, and it certainly isn't because I was ‘made' to have babies.
I have the children that I do because they are mine. They were mine before they arrived in my arms...if I would allow it. They remain mine forever...if I live it. I've seen them, I've felt them, I've loved them long before their birth. If anything but commitment and inspiration shaped the size of my family, my heart would hurt for a very, very long time. If I refused them, someday I would know, and die inside.
But it is
work. Harder work than any other in life. There is no
vacation, no retirement, no financial compensation. There is
worry, tears, anger and helplessness. Thankfully, there is always
bedtime...until they become teens!
After all is
finished, there is joy. Our biggest task is to keep the joy in
the foreground, ever visible, so the trials and blessings of children
are kept in eternal perspective.
Cherie
Logan,
1998
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I can still see her when I look at Chrystal but less then before. What I see of Chani when I look at my youngest is a blend of all my children as independent little two-year-old twirls of energy. Somewhere in the past months, Chrystal stopped looking like her sister and now mostly just looks like Chrystal with light blond and slightly curly hair. And yet, while personalities vary so much among my children, their stages of life, the patterns, have been consistent. And delightful. Mostly.
My life
with
my children was not by accident. And there is still bedtime and
that
wonderfully peaceful quiet when I can write. Sometimes.
-
Becoming
Crystal
Clear Index
A Column for Latter-Day Saint Mothers
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