My Dearest Husband,
As I sit on the couch with a heating pad under both legs to hopefully ease the sciatica pain, reach around my belly to type, stretch my swollen feet, and gnaw on yet another Tums, I still cannot help but smile. Despite the discomfort, our little boy is currently doing the worm in utero. We are officially in the third trimester and he is so big, active, and strong. He loves cold water, your voice, and when I rock our daughter. And he is growing right on schedule which means ready or not, he is on his way.
I remember so vividly this time just a year and half ago, when we anxiously made preparations for our baby girl. By 28 weeks her nursery was almost complete, clothes washed and hung, name picked out, and prenatal appointments recorded in all wall and phone calendars. We spent every night wishing time would move a little faster and dreaming of our new life as parents. This time around, our baby boy’s nursery is still a storage room, clothes have yet to be bought, we still have not decided on a name, and I almost forgot my last doctor’s appointment. And tonight, as you were putting our little girl to sleep and I was boiling another round of binkies and treating another Mac N Cheese stain, I could not help but wish time would slow down a bit because this time around, we know what a new baby means.
It means sleepless months, and days that feel like years. Yet it means short years, and time that simply will not slow down. How that makes any sense still boggles my brain, but we know it to be true.
It means even less time to do things we enjoy like fishing, reading, catching a new movie, and traveling. Not that we have done much of that in the past 17 months, but you catch my drift. Yet it means the most precious of memories made during the simplest, daily tasks like early morning family cuddles, bath time, and evening walks around the neighborhood.
It means our conversations revolving around feedings, odd bowl movements, nap schedules, and baby chores, while completely forgetting to talk about ourselves for days. Yet it means not really minding because our kids are our whole world. And as it turns out, we are not as exciting as them.
It means more irrational fears and unadulterated anxiety about just about everything. From recommended weight gain to soft spots and from a random rash to a tiny fever, the worry will be constant. Yet it means feeling like Superman and Wonder Woman when we figure it all out.
It means not knowing what tomorrow will hold, and lying in bed at night wondering how to predict the future. Yet it means growing closer to our Savior every day because we rely on faith and prayer.
So hubby, we may not know exactly what our life will look like with 2 under 2, but I do know we have each other, more love for our children than we ever thought possible, and a pretty good track record thus far. So bring it on. And hey, at least the kids don’t outnumber us yet.