oh baby!

Dear Baby,

You are early.  Which is very like your mom, and very unlike your father.  When your baby sister was born, and for the first time I was holding her slimy perfect little body, I looked over to my midwife and your father and said I'll do this one more time.  And I guess you were listening and I should have been a little more specific as to when the one more time would ideally happen.

But I wasn't, and now you are on your way.  And you did try and let me know from the beginning.  There was that morning where I had the most bizarre craving for vitamins.  I devoured Zachary's gummy vitamins like they were the last piece of chocolate that you vowed you would ever eat.  And then there was the irrational thought that when Kate was nine months old that would be the perfect time to get pregnant, and the distinct impressions that I would be once again spending time with my midwife, Rebecca.  There was the weekend road trip when I thought about arriving home and the unpacking, feeding, bathing, and the general care that has to occur when you have small children... I turned to your father and said  

I think I'm pregnant.


Well, when I think about getting home and all the things that need to get done a very distinct wave of hopelessness/tiredness sweeps over me.  And that feels like being pregnant . 

And your Dad didn't really believe me because based on a number of things (things that obviously didn't make a difference to you) I really shouldn't have gotten pregnant.

Baby, I know you care nothing about this letter, and probably by the time you do, this will all be a nostalgic memory for me, and the utter bewilderment of having three children three years old and younger will have faded and make perfect sense in the big picture.  But know that even in the midst of the awfulness of nausea, fatigue and hormones that comprise the first trimester, I am glad you are on your way.  And the morning that I stood over the sink cutting strawberries, too nervous to watch the pregnancy test clock go round and round and round because I already knew the answer and simply needed to prove it to a skeptical husband that thought I was on some sort of weird obsessive I AM pregnant!!! kick..........well know that mixed in with the anxiety and the life recalculations was giddy excitement.  Because new life is a miracle and new life is always exciting.

Room for me?? is a question Zachary asks as I nurse baby Kate in our rocking chair.  I bought this chair before Zachary was born, before I could fathom that one day I might have two (three!?) children to snuggle and be close to.  I bought this chair thinking how its petite frame would fit nicely with our 1950s home with its small rooms and low ceilings.  Slightly misguided purchase aside, there is always room for both Zachary and baby Kate, and there will be room for you as well.

We just might have to buy a bigger chair.

Baby Womack coming April 2014