How Many Children Do You Have? (Part 1)

One question I always have trouble answering is “How many children do you have?” My tongue stumbles over the words as I try to decide whether to reply “five” or “six”. Do I just count the children everyone can see, or do I also include Thomas who died last year?

Perhaps it’s easiest to say “five.” I remember this was the answer I gave someone shortly after Thomas’ death, and I also remember how I felt I’d betrayed him. Didn’t I consider him important enough to mention? God had given us the gift of Thomas, and I wasn’t acknowledging him.

But then again, a simple “six” gets me into trouble too. If I’m questioned further about such things as the ages of our children, I sometimes get the feeling the enquirer thinks I have misled her. Only children that can be seen and have need of our mothering skills seem to count.

Earlier this year, I visited a local shop that I hadn’t been into for quite some time. The owner remarked how much Charlotte had grown and asked me how old she was. After I had replied that she was a bit over two, the woman said wasn’t it wonderful when babyhood was over – all those sleepless nights and nappies. She then said, “You have five children, don’t you?” I could hardly tell her that I’d been hoping for lots of sleepless nights, but instead, our baby had died. She would have been so embarrassed. So I smiled and agreed, “Yes, I have five children.”

“Five on earth, one in heaven,” works well with some people, but is not the right response for everyone. “Five living, one dead” is just too blunt. You can see people want to know how our child died, but no one talks about death, so the conversation comes abruptly to an end.

It is very interesting listening to our children’s explanations of our family size. They definitely think there are six of them. On Mother’s Day this year, I was very surprised to receive a gift from Thomas. The children had decided that Thomas would have liked to have given me a present too, so they arranged one on his behalf. Whenever there is a greeting card to be signed, someone always remembers to add Thomas’ name. ”Well, he’s part of the family, Mum.”

Our eldest daughter, Felicity, once said, “There are six children in our family, but Mum only has to feed five of us.”

We have a special family friend who regularly corresponds with Felicity. At the end of each of his letters, Father J always asks for his regards to be passed on to “Mum, Dad, Duncan, Callum, Imogen and Charlotte and praying for the intercession of Thomas.” It gives me such pleasure to see all our names together.

Of course, numbers aren’t important. I don’t need my children to total a big number to increase my status as a mother. It’s the children represented by those numbers that are important. Each child, whether living or dead, is such a great gift from God. 

 I used to think my children were mine by right, that I was entitled to each and every one of them. How clever I felt whenever we conceived another child. How proud we were of our ability to produce a growing family. The reality is that if we'd been given children in proportion to our merits, I wouldn't have any children at all.

I ponder sometimes why some people have many children without a problem and others have great difficulty even conceiving one. Why would God bless me with children and not send another woman a child of her own? It’s a great mystery. So much sorrow for those who never know the joys of parenthood.

 And so I am grateful. I thank God every day for each of my beautiful blessings, including Thomas, on earth for such a short time but my son forever.