BY EMILY CALLAWAY

After stepping inside, I lean against the cold, metal wall in the back of the elevator hoping I am the only passenger on this three floor ride up. When the doors close, I take a deep breath and prepare to transcend to the third floor where my psychologist’s office is located.

I have always been thankful for this one hour opportunity to speak freely to someone who seems to know the right way to respond and challenge me. I am especially thankful that she specializes in families similar to mine who have children with life threatening illnesses. 

When I find her waiting for me at the front desk with her hands wrapped around her warm mug of coffee and her equally warm smile, I feel as if I am meeting up with an old friend. We make our way to her office, where I find myself a seat on her gray couch. There’s a loose button where I always sit making me assume this is the popular spot in her very chic office. She takes her normal seat which is a rolling leather chair beside her desk. 

Typically, we start with

“How are things?” 

“How are the kids?” 

“How’s Chloe?”

Today, I felt nervous because it would be the first time I ever put this particular thought that had been on my mind out into the universe for someone to hear.

With all on my plate, caring for four children, one with an extremely rare, complex medical condition, I was scared to even say what I was thinking.

“I think I want to add to my family. I want to have another baby.”

I pause for a moment as I can tell she is processing what I just said.

I don’t think you are supposed to say this in a psychology office but I blurt out what I am feeling, “Am I Crazy?”

Of course she responds how I anticipated, and assures me I am not crazy. We walk through the reasons and my reservations about this desire that has been taking up much of my mental space for weeks now. We begin to work through the list of my whys and why nots. It was important to me to feel I am making the best decision not only for myself, but for my family, and especially Chloe. 

I struggled most with the fact our family has had so much support over the last four years of Chloe’s diagnosis like fundraisers, donations, prayers, and meal trains. I worried what people would think if they had helped in some capacity, that now here I am choosing to add to our family. Will I be judged for wanting to add a baby when I have been very open about how difficult this medical journey has been? I was already mentally preparing myself for comments like, “Your plate is already so full” or “You are burning the candle at both ends.”

It’s easy to say, “Don’t worry about what people think” but when you have been the recipient of people’s donations and a local news story, it’s nearly impossible not to worry what people will think. 

My concerns continued when I thought about the unknown future of her disease. What if I have to go back and stay in the hospital for a while? We chatted about how I could bring this baby with me as I’ve seen dozens of pack and play set ups in hospital rooms and moms wearing infants while pushing IV poles connected to their other child. 

One topic that always comes up in therapy for me would be my desire to return to the classroom. On one hand, I would get to stay home with a new baby and really soak it all in while on the other hand, this could prolong my return if Chloe’s health remained stable. 

We spent time talking about the benefits a new child could bring to our lives. One being I felt a new life would bring our family joy and togetherness after all the hardship we’ve walked the last four years.  

While I have a son, younger than Chloe who has no medical diagnoses, I remember nothing of his childhood. His birth to toddlerhood is completely wiped out of my memory by the trauma I endured fighting for his sister’s life. It breaks my heart that I can’t remember his first word, what the first food he ever ate was, or picking him up from his first year at preschool. As selfish as this sounds typing it out, I wanted fresh memories that didn’t involve central lines, MRI’s, syringes, and dozens of medications even though I know this isn’t promised with a new baby. I wanted a way to make new memories with new milestones that I could keep forever. 

But most of all, I wanted to give Chloe a new sense of purpose. We spent more nights than I could count lapping the hallways of the hospital. Her favorite thing to do was always to walk extra slowly past the rooms where she knew babies or toddlers were. She would interact by playing peekaboo, waving, or complimenting them on their plushy they’d embrace while passing us on their wagon rides. Children have always lifted Chloe’s spirits and her light shines the brightest around little ones. 

My therapist’s response at the end of our session was “Emily, I think it checks a lot of boxes for you and I can understand why you have this desire, and no you aren’t crazy.” I didn’t need her stamp of approval but it felt good for someone to validate that it’s okay for me to feel the way I did about expanding our family. I could exhale this time fully knowing that someone out there knew what I was thinking. 

Stepping back in the elevator, I felt a weight lifted. Although my worries about what this addition could mean for my family and what others may think about it were still there, I felt confident that it was our decision to make. 

This awful disease has stolen so much from us, our daughter’s joy, her education, her health, my memories, my career, and holidays. I couldn’t bear for it to steal one more thing from our family – a chance at adding a new child.

As I type this blog, a new baby girl, who we will meet in October, wiggles around in my belly and our family couldn’t be more excited. While it’s been a unique experience this time –  having to hold our breath at each ultrasound expecting the worst because of our trauma –  she’s already brought so much positive to our lives. Chloe excitedly tracks the pregnancy and has meticulously folded each little outfit into the drawers as we get them. 

I anticipate there will be moments where I think to myself “I was crazy!” like when I am pushing medications through a G-tube while holding a crying newborn. But the moments of witnessing her first smile, watching Chloe holding her sister for the first time, and seeing her first steps, will outweigh it all. 

Over the past year, Emily has brought her wisdom as a parent to her role as a Parent Champion for Courageous Parents Network. We could not be more thrilled for her and her family as they welcome a new baby girl!  Learn more about Emily here.