Surprise, unconditional love built family of six

In the photo, one blond angelic head leans against a brown-haired counterpart. Beaming smiles split cherubic cheeks. They are both just babies, I think, pulling the picture from its frame.

Our first two sons were born two years and three months apart – both planned and delightedly welcomed.

Looking back, I wonder what I was thinking. Why I did I think Ethan needed to be a big brother when he was still a baby himself?

Not so long ago, family planning was fickle, ruled by fate or religious belief. I had the benefit of being born in the late ’60s and into a belief system that didn’t make childbearing a prerequisite for salvation, and instead encouraged husbands and wives to be responsible when choosing the size of their families.

Ethan Thomas, our golden-haired firstborn, arrived on a chilly January day. As the first grandson on both sides of our families, his arrival was celebrated with all the fanfare of a royal birth.

And he was a good baby (just ask his grandmas). Sweet, compliant and loving. When those grandmas told me he should be toilet-trained by age 2, I tried my best, but it turned out Ethan wasn’t always destined for compliance.

Nevertheless, for reasons I really can’t recall, by the time his first birthday had passed I was wanting another baby. My husband, Derek, and his brother are just 13 months apart, so by Hval standards I was already a bit behind the times.

Soon enough a baby was on the way. My plans for a little girl named April Joy were dashed early on when an ultrasound revealed an Alexander, not an April.

Alexander Ian stormed into the world on a sunny spring morning and weighed in at a whopping 10 pounds, 6 ounces. With a full head of dark hair, he couldn’t have looked more different than his older brother.

That difference included temperament. Where Ethan was content with quiet pursuits like reading, painting and snuggling with Mom, Alex was all go. He was walking by 9 months and as soon as he could stand alone, he began kicking soccer balls.

Life was crazy busy. Shortly after Alex was born Derek started his own business, in addition to his duties as a helicopter pilot in the Washington National Guard. The thought of adding to our family was the last thing on my mind when I found out I was expecting again.

Turns out family planning isn’t an exact science.

But we were delighted when Zachary Derek made his somewhat tardy appearance on a blustery October morning.

A family photo shows a capable-looking Ethan clutching his baby brother while Alex leans against him.

Having given birth to three sons in four years, I blundered forward. As a girly-girl I was appalled at the sheer physicality of boyhood. They were always wrestling, poking, jabbing and shoving each other. Like a litter of puppies, they’d roll all over the house and someone would end up crying – usually me.

“They’re just boys,” my husband explained. “Tell them to take it outside.”

“But they’re going to kill each other,” I wailed.

“Not gonna happen,” he said confidently. “My brother and I survived just fine.”

I wanted to point out the scars they both have from throwing rocks at each other, but decided to trust him on this.

And he was right. They survived their rough-and-tumble years, and just like the books said, they were all housebroken before kindergarten started.

Just when I thought I finally might have a handle on this parenting thing, I was shocked to discover I was expecting again.

So shocked, I assured the nurse she’d mixed my chart up with some else’s. She assured me she hadn’t and instead of my birth control prescription being refilled I took home a bottle of prenatal vitamins. Derek loves surprises. When I phoned him at work with the news, he laughed so hard I hung up on him. I wasn’t amused. Have I mentioned I like planning? I like organization. I like order. All of those things go out the window when a baby arrives.

And all of my misgivings also went out the window on the day Samuel Kristian was born. He was exactly what I wanted and exactly what I never knew I needed.

With two boys in elementary school and one in preschool, Sam was the baby I got to savor – relishing each moment of childhood in ways I was too busy to enjoy with his older brothers.

Now the family photo shows Ethan once again clutching a baby while Alex and Zach lean into him.

Holding that photo I marvel at the differences and similarities in those four faces – faces that currently all sprout whiskers and sideburns.

My dreams of daughters with ballerina skirts and bouncy curls have long since been vanquished, replaced with the joys of rambunctious boys.

This isn’t the family that I had planned, but it’s the family that I adore. I wouldn’t have it any other way.