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Reflecting on the Final Days of My Last Pregnancy
This pregnancy’s days are numbered. No more counting months or weeks; I’ve reached the point of counting down days. Where did those previous 38 weeks go? The ones that felt as if they were dragging and never ending at times. Have I really reached the end of maternity jeans and insatiable pregnancy cravings of supermarket sushi and pickles? Am I closing this childbearing chapter of my life? I think so. And I am content.
Now it’s a totally different story if you ask my husband! He wants six kids. SIX! He comes from a huge family with lots and lots of siblings and cousins. I told him we can’t outgrow our car because I refuse to drive around in an airport shuttle style van. He’s still not convinced. I threatened to leave him with all the kids for an entire weekend alone. I’m certain he’ll see that four kids is just right for our family two hours into that weekend alone.
Though I am content, I am also very sad. I love everything about pregnancy. Yes, seriously. Mind you, I don’t get crazy morning sickness or heartburn. Perhaps that’s why I enjoy being pregnant so much. I get to indulge in a ridiculous variety of cravings with minimal complications of varicose veins and a panic attack here and there. Ha! Okay, and there’s the fact that I can’t sleep at night because I’m used to sleeping on my stomach. And those annoying charley horse muscle spasms in the middle of those sleepless nights.
As my daughters get older, and I get older, I realize this is all I can take. I am stretched so thin between being there physically and emotionally for my girls. How could I possibly add more kids without sacrificing the quality of me that I’m giving them? Four is enough. Four is plenty. Four is an absolute blessing.
I am savoring every single kick, roll, and flutter of the baby. One day, these movements will be a distant memory that I won’t be able to relive. I love being able to tell my baby’s personality from these movements. Can I just say, this is going to be a feisty one! The movements of the baby are right up there with my favorite things about being pregnant. In the early days, I wait and wait for that first flutter. Every time the baby moves, my hand automatically comes to my stomach to catch the little bumps.
Of course you know what they say, “never say never.” But I can’t help it. I feel a peace in my heart that four is the right number for me. I’ve had everyone from family to random strangers ask me if this baby is a girl, will I try again for a boy? My answer has been, and always will be, the same: no. I wanted four children. Not two boys and two girls, or three girls and one boy. I just wanted children to love and care for, and that’s precisely what I got. And I am nothing short of grateful.
My biological clock ticked its last tock. It’s time to trade in this timepiece for a sparkly ring.
Photo credit: Hala Hyatt Photography.