As I am writing this post ahead of time, I have no idea if Baby Girl #3 will already be here or not by the time this publishes.Today is my actual due date–and she’s still baking!*
Any day now, our little family of four will become a family of five. And I guess we won’t be so “little” anymore. We’ll be bigger than the national average family size at least. Wow.
The last week or so of pregnancy I’ve finally gotten to the point where I’m ready to just “have my body back.” Really, although I’ve been huge (or at least others tell me!) throughout this pregnancy, I’ve been so busy keeping up with my 4-year-old and 21-month-old little girls that at times I’ve almost forgotten that I was carrying inside a third little girl. Up until recently.
The backaches. The heat. The huffing and puffing if I stand too long. The time it takes to roll out of bed each morning because there’s definitely no springing up as soon as my alarms (a.k.a. my two little redheads) call my name.
But still…in the midst of all the final-weeks-of-pregnancy discomforts, I want to make it all last a little longer. I want to savor these kicks. I want to cherish the roundness of my ever-growing belly. I want to bask in the wonder of how she will look, how she will smell, and what her little personality will be like.
After all, I don’t know if we’ll ever have a fourth child. Oh, I’m not opposed to it.
But at one point I didn’t think we’d have a third child either. It was during the throes of my unmedicated labor in fact. I never voiced it, but in the midst of intense contractions, I remember thinking to myself: “Oh my goodness. This is really painful. I am glad I am doing this. But I can never have more children. I can never do this again.”
Yeah–that may be one conversation with myself I wish I didn’t remember right about now!
But you know what happened not long after those thoughts entered my head? My sweet little second daughter breathed her first breaths. And as I cuddled her in my hospital room the next day, I looked over at my husband and said: “You know, it was hard, hard work–the hardest work I’ve ever done. But why wouldn’t I want to do it all over again when the end result is this precious little person to love?”
And here we are.
This pregnancy has gone much quicker than the others. My first pregnancy’s nine months seemed to stretch into a year. Everything was new. It was all so scary and exciting at once.
My second pregnancy went much quicker. I had a toddler to chase around, after all. She kept me quite occupied. But the last trimester gestational diabetes diet slowed things down. A pregnant woman who couldn’t indulge in the occasional cupcake or ice cream? I’m glad I didn’t have that issue this time around!
This time just flew. Keeping up with one toddler while pregnant is challenging. But keeping up with two? It’s no wonder I never broke out my prenatal exercise dvds (regretfully). Whereas I spent my entire second pregnancy researching how to achieve a natural birth and preparing my body with lots of exercise, there was just no time for that this time around.
I keep thinking about all the things I haven’t done in preparation for her arrival: I need to pack my bags, I need to pack the girls’ bags, I need to organize some diapers and set up the bassinet in our room. I need to watch some birthing videos and practice breathing exercises.
Ready or not, here she comes.
If you’re a mom, did you find that each pregnancy went faster than the last? What are some unique memories from each pregnancy?
*This post first appeared as one of my columns in the Mooresville Weekly newspaper.
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