A Journey of Accepting the Gift of Children

By Chaya Raskin for EmBRace Magazine

The Setting

I remember the moment it hit me.

We had BH just bought our new house in East Flatbush, I had three children under four, and I was expecting my fourth in a couple of months. And there I was, schlepping up the stairs with a basket of laundry that I could hardly balance over my pregnant belly. Toys were strewn all over the house, and there were probably leftovers from supper (or lunch) all over the kitchen and dinette.

I like to think I’m a neat and organized person. This was not how I expected my house to look, but I was working a part-time job and running after 3 toddlers all day and was completely drained.

I remember thinking that things could not continue this way.

It just wasn’t possible to raise a growing family when under so much physical and emotional strain. The kids were demanding, the housework wasn’t getting done, and I didn’t feel fulfilled. I was stretched to my last bit of energy and just about surviving.

I found myself mentally re-evaluating my life.

I loved my work. It was interesting to mee, minimal hours, and working from home, and I found it relaxing. That certainly wasn’t the problem.

But I was heavily pregnant and feeling it.

The housework was hard.

The kids were constantly needing my attention, not to mention my hands-on assistance, until they finally quieted at seven or 8PM, when, if I was lucky, I finally got some good hours of peace and quiet.

And so at that moment, a thought came into my head that I had never seriously considered before.

The Dilemma

You see, after the birth of each child, people had been asking me, close friends and family members from whom I least expected it, why I felt I had to have the kids so close together.

Honestly, I’d never thought twice about it.

I grew up in a family of ten children קע”ה born in less than 12 years and thrived in it.

My husband loves kids and is an extremely devoted and hardworking father. (Without him this would be a different discussion.) He always said he was excited to be a father of twenty. I used to laugh when he said that. But I never argued; who knew what Hashem had in store?

But now I was doubting myself.

I was worn down and exhausted and I didn’t even know if what I was doing made any kind of sense.
So I decided in my mind that after this fourth child, I was entitled to a break.

I planned to call a Rav who would surely give me a heter after I told him I was nearing a nervous breakdown.

And then I’d have a chance to be normal, right?

But if I expected to be relieved I was very wrong.

I gained no peace from this resolution; in fact, it made me feel even worse.

And I realized it wasn’t what I really wanted.

I wanted a big family. I loved my big family. I felt lucky growing up, still do today, and I knew my children felt lucky with their siblings so close to their age, and wanted more.
But I had lost my drive.

I was doubting my dreams and the path I had taken.

I knew I needed to go back to the source and get educated.

Searching

I remembered a class I’d had in school about the Rebbe’s views on family planning, and decided that was a good place to start. Not being the type to keep high school notes forever, I contacted my teacher and asked her to send me the information she had.

It was hardly a few hours and she had responded with the notes from her class, an inspiring story, a link to some excerpts of Sichos on a website, and another Sicha she recommended I learn.

It was good stuff. I began reading and immediately felt my conviction return. But at one point I stopped. Sure, I was comfortable digging deep into a Sicha in its original form, but I knew I didn’t represent the majority. What was there for my friends when they needed encouragement? Was this really all there was? Had no one put together a book about it, or even a few chapters that addressed these issues? Was there no resource that put the contemporary questions together with their traditional answers?

I did some more searching and discovered that no, there was not. At least, not in the way I wanted to see it.

And so I decided to do my research.

I began with a list of questions I wanted to find answers to, and together with my husband, I collected and organized a pile of material from various sources: halachic, hashkafic, and practical, all about having children. Of course, a huge number of pages consisted of talks and letters of the Rebbe, showing us just how important this issue was to him.

We found some amazing stuff. Very soon I knew that I would not be calling the Rav so fast, and believe it or not, life suddenly became manageable again. And we weren’t just managing – we were thriving. Our new perspective gave us new strength and passion to care for our family, in a way we could have never imagined.

Breaking down the Question

We discovered that while the halacha is clear on the issue, its application could be interpreted in numerous ways.

To summarize it in a general sense:

The mitzvah of having children comes from the posuk in Parshas Bereishis “פרו ורבו ומלאו את הארץ וכבשה… – Be fruitful and multiply, fill the land and conquer it…”

The Rabanim explained based on this that the mitzvah de’oraisa is to have one son and one daughter (that would live to have a son and daughter between them). That would fulfill the reasoning of the mitzvah to continue the human race.

But the mitzvah derabanan takes it a lot further. Taking into account the meaning and spirit of the posuk to “be fruitful and multiply,” they explain that, in fact, one is required to continue to have children “…as long as one can.”

Now, there were plenty of situations we knew of that certainly qualified for an exemption to this (a heter). Women with various health conditions, complications after birth, or other situations that limited their ability to carry, birth, or raise children are not hard to find.

[Not to mention those with conditions such as hyperemesis gravidarum, who basically don’t have a life for nine months when they are expecting. These women are heroes for having even a single child in those difficult circumstances.]

But we were not them and they were not us. We were healthy, mentally and physically. My pregnancies were not symptom-free but nor were they anything crazy. My babies were not exceptionally difficult. We were both committed to our family and had family and community support. So we needed to find out: what did “as long as one can” mean for us?

Finding Answers

That’s where our stack of pages of the Rebbe’s talks came into play.

I’ve always believed that context changes a lot, and so we read not just the sichos, but we found the background in which they were shared.

Turns out, things then weren’t that different to the way they are now.

Women like me were struggling.

They told the Rebbe how tired they were, how emotionally difficult it was to care for children so soon after birth, how they needed time to recover.

And what was most interesting was that the Rebbe did not counter any of their claims.
But nor did he agree with them.

He spoke about the tremendous value of each Yiddishe Neshama that would be brought into the world.
He talked about what a zechus we mothers have in raising these children, and that the grandparents have in supporting their children and grandchildren.

These children weren’t just children. These were people, who may start off as children but after a short decade or two, they are independent grown-ups. Souls and personalities that have an irreplaceable impact on the world, that bring bracha and goodness to their families and communities and ultimately the world.

He spoke about how each person was an entire world, how the one creation that Hashem created solitary was the human being. Everything else was created in pairs, dozens, millions or trillions, but man was alone. To demonstrate that all of the world was equal and relevant to just one individual.

He talked about how these souls were waiting to come down, how they all needed to come down for Moshiach to finally come.

The Rebbe was trying to elevate us.

He wanted to inspire us, to help us realize and connect with the truth that we have capabilities beyond what we can imagine, that we must only open ourselves up to receive the blessings and they will come.

He told us to forget our ambitions for other Jews and shlichus when it got in the way of our family. He told us that Hashem has many messengers, that he would find a way to accomplish whatever is needed, but that no one could replace our role as parents for this one child that Hashem might want to send us.
He told us that shalom bayis would be increased, that parnassa would be increased, that every child brings with them a channel full of blessing that would really reach us all.

But as with any bracha, we need to be open to it.

And perhaps with all the negativity in the world with regard to parenting and children, it seemed that we as a couple weren’t open enough.

So we studied the Rebbe’s words, reading them not for what we wanted them to say but for what the Rebbe was trying to say to us.

Our Answer

Between the lines of more than thirty sichos to the public, some personal letters, and anything else we found on the topic, the message the Rebbe had for us was clear and unequivocal.

Stop, he was telling us. Think about it.

Remember what kind of decision this is.

Realize that potentially, there is a child in Heaven waiting to join your family, a child who will bring you joy, blessing, and so much nachas.

Remember that Hashem knows you so well, knows your family and situation, in fact knows far more about you than you will ever know about yourself. And He is calculating the very best path for you, not just for now but for decades and generations.

Think, he said. Are you really sure that you cannot handle it? That you don’t want to try, to let Hashem help you find ways to handle it?

We read it. We internalized it. We thought deeply about our situation. And with some time, we realized that yes, we believed we did have the strength.

I don’t know what would have happened had we come to our rav for a heter. Perhaps he would have given it. Maybe he would have talked us through our circumstances and helped us find the strength to do what we really wanted deep down, and ultimately discovered that we could.

But we’ll never know, because at the end we never got there. Our question simply disappeared after the Rebbe’s words sunk in.

It was time to stop listening to others who doubted us, who didn’t share our values or understand what we understood. It was time to shake off the doubts that were literally sapping the life out of us.

The Torah wanted us to have children as long as one can. With the Rebbe’s encouragement, we knew that Hashem wasn’t going to set us up for failure. If he would give us a challenge, it would come with ample reward, and all the tools needed to overcome it. We only needed to give it our absolute best shot.
We were convinced, and filled with renewed strength and energy. We knew that whatever Hashem would send us, we were ready.

My Solutions

Of course, we are still human.

I still schlep myself around every time I’m expecting. I still have difficult days and hours dealing with the kids, their fights, and their diaper changes.

We struggle, we try, and sometimes we fail, but we always get up again. And inside I am at peace because I am confident in the path I have chosen.

I have learned that a proper perspective actually gives strength, both mentally and emotionally, and in practically finding solutions. I know that I am fulfilling a tremendous mission with every child I have and every moment that I care for them. This realization motivates me to discover just how much I can handle if I set my mind to it.

I stopped worrying about all the “things” I wanted to do, and accepted the fact that whatever I couldn’t manage to do was not something Hashem wanted from me right now.

This wasn’t easy for my ambitious self. I always took pride in my ability to multitask seamlessly and fill my day with accomplishments. But learning to value time spent in a calm and serene state of mind for my family made all the difference.

I discovered that I need to focus on caring for myself, so that I have the strength to live up to Hashem’s expectations in caring for His children. And when I am fed, rested, and fulfilled, our entire home is elevated.

I found that I needed to stop being distracted, to stop looking at the kids as something that was in my way, and remember that they were my main mission in life right now. And then everything else I truly needed or wanted to do somehow also fell into place. I learned to try to live in the moment, to cherish the time I spend with my children, to recognize that Hashem sent me each one at the time that is best for them, for us, and for the world.

I found that bracha sometimes comes in unexpected beautiful ways, like a spontaneous kiss from Hashem who is proud of our efforts. Watching a toddler meltdown vanish into thin air at the sight of baby brother, replaced by a cooing, smiling, and suddenly calm child, is a sight that I will never take for granted. Offers of help from unexpected sources, discoveries of the great advantages of our little house and neighborhood, and the greatest bracha of regular good health regularly remind me of my father in Heaven who is looking out for me.

I see the pride that my children have in their sisters and brothers; their unique personalities full of curiosity, generosity, humor, and creativity each complementing the other; their love and concern for each other even at their very young age. We are convinced that we have not made a mistake.

And between the noise and the chaos that the coronavirus lockdown brought with it, we also found the blessings in a close family like mine: The hours upon hours that my children spend talking, playing, and imagining together, often with practically no adult supervision despite their young age. Boredom does not exist in our home. And thinking of the countless people locked up in a quiet, lonely, or difficult place, we feel blessed to live in an environment of carefree play, love, and joy of innocent, beautiful children.

The Next One Arrives

Shortly after we made this resolution, when my fourth baby was about seven months old, I discovered I was expecting. But the joy and exhilaration that filled me this time caught me by surprise. It seemed ironic to me that I’d be so excited for yet another one when there were already four tiny babies in my home קע”ה. But after all that time spent deeply considering the incredible gift that each child is, the zechus and the urgency of this mission, another baby now meant something else altogether.

Mendel was born a couple weeks earlier than expected, a beautiful boy with a head full of blonde hair. He immediately won our hearts with his sunny disposition, gentle and easygoing nature, and adorable tendency to burst into dance at the faintest hint of music.

And it occurred to me that, after two boys who were named after close family members who had just passed away, Mendel took the name of the Rebbe whose words had ensured that he would arrive.

Final Thoughts

It is so easy to get caught in the winds of the society around us. A society that understands little about the Torah’s values, not just about children but about our mission as people in this world. It is easy to feel overwhelmed and afraid, to doubt our own abilities to do something the people around us believe we can’t do. But then that becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

We are stronger than we think. We are driven, and we are supported. Hashem has a plan for every one of His children, and we need not be afraid.

Each person and family’s circumstances differ, and many of us struggle with real challenges including mental, emotional, physical, psychological, behavioral, and other troubling dynamics. Some of us have more difficult children in various senses of the word. These are situations that must not be minimized and a rav and mashpia should be consulted on how to navigate them, and whether the situation necessitates intervention. It is essential not to compare ourselves to others whose lives’ details we’ll never truly know.

With the support of our doctors, our families, and our communities, together we can succeed in this vital mission of rebuilding our nation and preparing it for the final Geula.

Join me at TheGiftofChildren.com to read more, and to follow my journey as I explore it from the angle of a mother in the trenches.

In 2019, I was grateful to hear that Mosaica Press had published a book on the topic. Here was proof that Hashem has many messengers, and while I focused on raising my children, a dedicated and highly qualified Chossid had done the work that needed to be done.

Shall We Have Another? was written by Mendel Dubov, a thorough and beautifully written masterpiece addressing the topic from the philosophical angle, focusing on the great meaning and import of this mitzvah while briefly touching on sources relating to the more practical aspects. It is available on Amazon and local Judaica stores.

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This article was originally published in EmBRace, the magazine by and for Bais Rivkah Alumnae.

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