On Being a Number vs. Called by a Name

Do you know I’m pregnant with “#6?”

(Or…Do you know actually this is my 7th pregnancy, and one of my babies already died? Should I bring that up when you say something rude?).

Do you know that I am “#6” in my family? Do you know that I hate being numbered instead of seen for who I am? Do you know that this “#6” experience has been really triggering for me? Why?

Because my whole life I heard the comments and internalized them…”Six kids?!” Oh my! “Your parents would have been happier, wealthier, less stressed…if you hadn’t been born.”

“Your poor parents should have stopped at 5 at least!”

“You know, there’s an easy pill to prevent that!”(Prevent me!)

“Goodness sakes! Six kids?! No wonder you’re in poverty, struggling, having difficulties, etc. etc.”(I guessed those things were my fault!)

“#6?! You’ve reached the end of a normal number. That’s gone overboard. That’s too many. Too much” (I guessed that I am one too many. Too much.)

I grew up thinking most people thought it would have been better had I not been born. I grew up thinking my family problems and my parents’ stress was caused by too many children– caused by me and my existence.

I grew up thinking that my life was “extra” “unnecessary” “unwanted” “unvalued” and “unimportant.”

I grew up thinking I was a number. A number that was at least one too many. Too much. I grew up hearing most of my extended family’s problems started in 1984— the year I was born.

And you know what? I’m never going to let my kids hear your rude, ugly comments without correcting you to your face. Even if it means being rude and ugly to you. My kids are too important. Too valued. Too loved.

Each of my kids is more than a number. Each of my kids is unique, wanted, special, a gift from God made in His image to fulfill His purposes for them on earth.

They are not biological accidents, unplanned pregnancies, overpopulated mistakes from ignorant parents who don’t know any better. They are children of God. Each of them. They are not numbers or assembly lined copies of a prototype. They are not a nuisance, a problem, the source of my problems, or a complication. They EACH are a blessing.

I don’t call them by their “number;” I call them by their names.

I see them for their unique personality and their unique gifts. There may be “a lot of kids,” but there is only 1 Mabel, 1 Theodore, 1 Samuel, 1 Rosemary, 1 Edith, and 1 baby coming soon. I couldn’t imagine not having my 1 Mabel. I couldn’t imagine not having my 1 Theodore. I couldn’t imagine not having my 1 Samuel. I couldn’t imagine not having my 1 Rosemary. I couldn’t imagine not having my 1 Edith. I couldn’t imagine not having my 1 baby. (And, every day I mourn my baby, Micah, who I never got to know).

So before you say your ugly words about big families and too many kids, remember that I was #6 in my family. And I refuse to let my kids grow up feeling like a number.

When I correct your ignorance and ugliness, your thoughtlessness and arrogance, … My kids will know that you are the one who doesn’t understand blessings in life. You are the one who is lacking and missing out. You are the one who has something to learn and places in your heart to grow. They’ll know you are the one who should be pitied and prayed for and “Lord, have mercy!” and “bless your heart.”

Because each of my kids will know they are wanted and created by God to do the good works He planned for them long ago. Each of them is a gift. I can see that. And I hope you can, too. If not, you are missing out.

*(Thank you goes to those who actually speak and live out prolife sentiments that value families and value children. Your encouraging words and actions help make up for the ugliness and hatefulness in the world and in America directed towards children. Thank you for affirming made in God’s image, unique human life, created by God with value and purpose. Thank you for believing and telling mothers that our work matters and our families matter.).