Gosh, it was nearly a year ago that I first shared my thoughts on having a third. It was a discussion that weaved it’s way into many of conversations and debates between Willy and I.
I’ve debated sharing any news here until things felt more real and secure, but ultimately I’ve decided that I lean on this space heavily for support and encouragement and to deny the truth any longer feels weird. Especially because I can’t seem to stop talking about how tired I am.
I’m pregnant. And not that anything has gone wrong or caused any need for concern, somehow this pregnancy feels more fragile.
I’m past the first trimester now, with a due date in March – the first possibility at adding a Spring birthday in our family, which would round out the seasons so that we have at least one in each. Time has flown even in the midst of the worst throws of exhaustion and waves of uneasiness that seem to dictate much of the first several weeks of pregnancy.
Willy, second guessing that vasectomy…
Van, insistant on the baby coming out now so that he can hold it and show it his monster truck.
Hooper, concerned with the baby’s ability to breath while in my belly and innocently confused about how it’s going to come out as he makes a full circle around my body in hopes to discover this hole I told him about. He points to my butt and starts to laugh and all concerns prove fleeting and questions, answered.
And me, trying hard to slow down time to grasp all the changes that await… building a to-do list that includes “find a space for the new baby” at the top… a growing anticipation to know just who this little person growing inside me is going to be…
My dress is from Squashblossomvintage, on etsy