“I’m sure it won’t happen quickly”, I told him. “It will probably take months, if not years, if ever. Let’s just trust that God has a plan for us.”
These were some of the things I said to Chad last winter before we decided to let go of the “control” of our family and see if we might have another little one join us. In all honesty, I didn’t believe it would happen. At that point in time I was put through a battery of medical tests in an attempt to discover why I was having so many unexplained symptoms. I was tested for lymphoma, a number of auto-immune disorders, and even menopause. At that time, getting pregnant seemed highly unlikely.
I still remember lying in bed just a few weeks later and listening for Chad to leave for work. One ear tuned toward the door as I waited to hear the familiar sound of the garage door and the start of Chad’s car. I don’t remember the exact time, but I do remember that it was dark and the first number on the clock read “5”. When I knew he was gone I rushed into the bathroom. With shaky hands and pounding heart I dug in the cabinet for the little white stick that would tell me if what I suspected was true. The dialogue in my head went something like, “No way will it be positive. I’m sure I’m just making things up in my head. It’s probably early menapause and we will just have to deal with that. As I paced around the room and waited the instructed 2 minutes before reading the stick my internal conversation continued, “What if it is? What will Chad say? Am I ready for 3? Are we ready for 3? Do I really want to do this? I’m scared. Why mess with something that already seems perfect?”
Two minutes later I walked back into the bathroom and saw it. . . clear as day. . . “+” My knees nearly buckled under me as I stared in shock. No, it wasn’t menopause. . . I was pregnant. I sat and stared for several minutes trying to take it all in. Disbelief. Surprise. Fear. The emotions were over-whelming and confusing. I picked up my cell phone and hit “2” and Chad answered. His shock mirrored my own. We said little to each other as we let the news sink in. He still talks about pulling into work that morning with absolutely no recollection of the 30 minute drive to get there. What we were both thinking but not saying was. . . this is a scary change.
Here we are nearly NINE MONTHS later and the news has officially permeated. Dude, we’re going to have a baby. Again. For real.
I had an appointment today. . . 35 weeks. I’m measuring at 31 weeks (which is typical for me), but she wanted to do an ultrasound to be sure that Baby is growing okay. I was ushered into the darkened room and for the third time this pregnancy, got a glimpse of the little life that is completely intertwined with mine. Is it strange that today, at 35 weeks, it finally feels real? I stared at the screen as the tech took measurements and saw a little arm cover and uncover it’s face. (Obviously, already a pro at peek-a-boo.) She told me our little one has hair. Hair? Really? (Charlie and Chanelle were bald). She measured the head, the legs, fluid levels. . . all looks good. Small, but not too small–I just carry strange.
Today I got it. . . at 1centimeter dilated and 50% effaced his or her arrival is imminent. (Somehow I have lost sight of that, feeling as though I’ll be pregnant and uncomfortable for the rest of my life.) Today, the flutters of excitement were felt. Gone are the fears and trepidations of nine months ago. Today, only excitement and anticipation remain. What will he/she be like? Look like? Will it be a he or she? How will Charlie and Chanelle react? So many unknowns. . .
Oh my, I’m excited. We are all excited. Little by little it sinks in a bit more that our family is going to change. Last week, for example, we received the sweetest thing in the mail from my friend over at Sassytimes. . .
Was Charlie ever that small? Yes, yes he was. |
How great is that?! I was so pumped when I opened the package. Chad’s reaction? Is the baby seriously going to be able to fit into that? Will it really be that small?
Oh, how quickly we forget. How quickly the time goes by. How precious are these days. I can feel my emotions beginning to stir. So excited for the change, yet at the same time relishing these final days as the four of us.
I love what we have now. Our dynamics just work. It’s easy. It’s fun. I enjoy watching Charlie and Chanelle grow together and actually be friends. I listen to the way they laugh with each other and wholeheartedly enjoy being together. I like watching how Chanelle admires her older brother and her older brother cares for her. Tonight, he actually read a book to her. How is my little guy reading?!
And my Wednesday afternoon’s with Chanelle have become precious, precious hours. . . to me and to her. She understands that she gets all of me and she calls the shots. From dressing up our girls for ballet class. . .
To taking a few moments to dance in the rain. . .
To lying on the floor and competing in the board game of the day. . .
. . . these are days that will be forever treasured in my heart. . . and I hope in her heart, too.
Right now the change feels bitter-sweet. For me, change always is. I trust, however, that in a few short weeks the change will only feel sweet. Even tonight as we climbed up in Chanelle’s loft to read a bedtime story I watched my not-so-little-ones talk excitedly about the baby.
They talked about how they would help to take care of the baby. How they will teach it to talk and show it all the toys. Charlie assured me that if the baby is cold in the hospital he will certainly bring the “one-one” (onsie) to keep it warm. And as I sat and listened to their conversation I was reminded that while change is always hard, it’s almost always good.
That dark morning nine months ago seems like years ago. So much has happened and our hearts have been prepared. Today, just weeks shy of being a mother of three I feel only excitement about meeting this new little life. A life that I’m certain will rock our world in the same way, but in it’s own unique way, that Charlie and Chanelle did.
In just a few short weeks another story will begin to unfold and I can hardly wait!
Oh, I loved this post. Such a perfect description of all the excitement and fear and anticipation that comes with expecting a little one (which I can actually relate to, now!). I cannot WAIT to hear news of your newest little one — and I love that you're waiting to find out the gender, too. Your little family is perfect and will just keep getting more perfect. 🙂
Love you, friend.
I can't believe we are so close! This home stretch is killing me because I'm so uncomfortable, but I'm trying to soak up the time as a family of 4 before things change again. Such a crazy mix of emotions.
(Did you tell your hubby that the onesie will probably even be BIG on your peanut. Isn't that CRAZY?!?! I can't believe my girls were ever that small either. Seems unreal.)
Oh, this post brought tears to my eyes. (As all of your posts usually do.)
Friends, what a time of amazing change. I am so excited for you… and praying for you… and loving you from afar.
I simply cannot WAIT to hear more about this baby.
Please, please, please ask Chad to tweet me after you give birth. Or email. Or text. Or SOMETHING.
Cant wait to know this sweet little one that will join your family.:). I can't believe the time is almost here although you probably think and feel that it's been forever. Just as all pregnant moms do:). Just wish I would be as cute pregnant as you do. It is hard to imagine how little they are. I will continue to pray for all of you as you wait and for the little one. So excited!! Can't wait for the news
So excited to meet your little one and find out if this will be a little girl blogger or a boy blogger! : ) Love to you, friend. You are going to do amazing as a mother of 3–trust me, transitioning to 2 was harder than 3. You already know how to juggle schedules and adding another one in the mix really isn't that big of a deal. Probably not that way for everyone, but it was for us. Treasure every moment!