A Farewell to My Third Pregnancy

I made it to my 39-week OB appointment only five minutes late, carrying one toddler without shoes on, unbrushed curls mangled on the back of her head, and coaxing the bigger toddler with yogurt on his face to stay under the umbrella to try and stay at least partially dry as the rain came steadily down around us.

It was all kinds of working until we stepped into a massive puddle right before we made it under the overhang by the entrance.  So close.

Then I looked down as I tried to stuff my keys into my purse and realized my maternity dress was on backwards.

And this sums up my pregnancy on the third go’round.

I’ve reached the point where I love this big round belly so much it seems as if it will always be a part of me, yet I know in mere days it will be gone. I’m torn between savoring my shape and this feeling, yet anticipating the most magical moments to come.

I really love being pregnant.  So much.

I love the way I look when I’m pregnant and all of those secret kicks I get to experience, just me and babe all day long.  I love the moments spent daydreaming about snuggling another precious life when they just melt into your chest, and how real it feels to have them almost in your arms! I love the anticipation of the first time you get to meet this beautiful child you’ve carried for nine (or 10) months.

The way it instantly makes your heart explode when you see your husband hold the person you’ve created together for the first time.  And you love him even more.  So much more than you ever thought possible.

I adore…

The excitement of finding out whether we’re having a boy or girl.

The name game and finally deciding on what he or she will be called.

Eating extra dessert.  Because you’re pregnant.

Picking out the perfect Going Home from the Hospital outfit after searching for months.

Prepping older siblings for the arrival of their new baby brother or sister.  Hearing them talk about the baby…what they think it is (boy) and what they want to name him (Coco).  And having the youngest tot constantly try to lift my shirt up and say, “Baby!”

Even after doing this nearly three times now, I still love it.  It’s still as precious to me as the first and second times.

Yet, if possible, it’s an even deeper love than the first time and second time; one that only comes with experience and understanding of what’s to come.

I started using my body pillow weeks earlier than ever before this time around and have come to the conclusion that the more pregnancies you have, the more pillows you’re allowed to use without mockery from the other side of the bed. You know, from the one who’s sleeping soundly without rib kicks, pee wake-up calls, and achy hips.  Oh, and he’s sleeping on his belly.  Must be nice.

I know the newborn stage is equally magical and exhausting, dreamy and demanding, serene and painful.  And fleeting.  The days and nights run together and then suddenly, you emerge with your head only a bit foggy and your little frog-legged baby has rolls on those thighs, is smiling right at you, and isn’t attached to you nursing literally around the clock.

I know about all of the unpleasant parts of birth and recovery.  I’m not convinced knowing makes them any easier, because I still dread them.  Ha!  But I know my limits and that all of these things too, shall pass.

I know what an honor it is to be chosen for this work, and this child, and this pregnancy.  And that I would do it all again in a heart beat, for 10 more months.

Because it’s so, so worth it, and I don’t take it for granted.

Little one, my third precious child:

I can practically hear your cries, see your face, and feel you in my arms.

Thank you for making me a mama three-times-over and for giving me joy I never knew possible.

Until your birth day,

Mama