Third Time Around the Block

I was talking with someone about what I still needed to buy for the new baby. She assumed that because I have a 4 year old that I had everything I needed. My response was "I was 37 when The Boy was born. Why would I have another kid? I got rid of everything as soon as The Boy stopped using it (or he broke it)."

Here I am, 4 1/2 years later and 8ish weeks away from my due date with baby #3. 

With Baby #1 I was over the moon happy. I was 27, been married for almost a year when we found out about The Girl's pending arrival. I told everyone I knew as soon as the stick I peed on turned pink. Today The Girl is the most extraordinary person on the planet and I'm forever grateful she's mine.

With Baby #2 I was more than a little freaked out about having a baby at 37. It took me a few months to get over the shock. Once I hit the second trimester I was in full acceptance and happy about my little bundle-to-be. After a few little stumbling blocks resulting in some time in the NICU, The Boy is happy, healthy, creative, fun, loving and as energetic and stubborn as they come. I'm so happy God chose us to be his parents.

With Baby #3 I was calm when I found out. It was an unexpected surprise God gave us, to say the least. I was reserved, but happy.

I have to say I never thought there'd be a #3, I never considered a #3 and certainly never planned for a #3. I feel remarkably blessed to be able to do this again and welcome this new baby with open arms.

Yes, I know I'm older and will be just days away from my 42nd birthday when the little Chicken Pie is born. Yes, I know there are more complications involved. Yes, I know I'm not the hot little number I was when I was 27 so this event is harder on me physically (and mentally). Yes, I know I have no money, so how the heck am I going to provide for her. Yes my house is small. Yes, I know all this stuff. I'm not ignoring it. I know it's there. In fact, It's easy to get freaked out about all the negatives and sometimes I have to talk myself down off the water tower and remind myself that God is in control and I can handle this.

All that said, I am really grateful that I get to experience this at least one more time. Being pregnant is really kinda cool when you stop to think about it.

Sure there are the not so fun parts, like the morning sickness in the beginning, being dead tired for the first 16 weeks, hungry all the time, but unable to eat; having super-smell so everyone and everything makes you gag; then later having ankles the size of hams and not being able to fit into your shoes (although wearing flip flops all day is nice); getting carpal tunnel in my hand / forearm; being monitored for pre-eclampsia every single day; the back pain; the fat fingers; the weight gain (thankfully, I've gained less than 10 pounds and I'm at 31w2d at this posting); peeing when I sneeze or laugh or cough; getting anemia then the constipation that comes with the iron supplements I have to take; other complications that made the doctor tell me I can't drive or hula dance until after the baby is born. It's not all cute little booties and foot rubs.

But get this - I get to grow another human inside of me, one that I made (with Hubby's help, of course). I get to feel her squirm around inside of me, watch my belly dance at night. I get to feel her cutie little hiccups. I'm responsible for making sure this little-bunch-of-cells-turned-human has a safe journey in her development. Then, I get to hold this little baby that I baked inside of me, smell her cute little head and call her mine. That's so cool.
The whole process, even including the discomforts, is pretty remarkable and I feel really blessed that I get to experience it again.