Getting There...

I was thinking this morning that it's now practical to measure the remainder of this pregnancy in days. In the unfortunate event that I actually make it to my due date, I'll have 28 days left. Why is it that four weeks sounds so long to me and 28 days seems totally reasonable? I'm feeling very torn between wanting it over and also not being ready yet. Sure I'm huge and miserable, but the closer to the end it gets, the more I feel strengthened to last as long as I need to.

And this pregnancy is different. This one will be my last.

Two boys are a handful and there are plenty of days that I have serious doubts about my ability to handle this third. But I know I'll be fine in the end. But three boys is, well, a lot. Initially we had talked about waiting a few years after Dash and then having two more children close in age. This little guy jumped the gun quite a bit. I can confidently say that having four children wham-bam would be more than I could deal with. And while I've been told that it could be fun to have another later-in-life child down the road, that doesn't appeal to me in the slightest. I just don't think it would be fair to have three boys so close and then a fourth far behind, always struggling to keep up. Not to mention that I'm looking forward to someday being able to have a life again for myself and being able to enjoy my husband more. Don't get me wrong, I want these boys to grow up as slowly as possible, but at the same time it's nice to be able to imagine a time in the future where Brooks and I can decide to go to a movie or dinner alone without having to plan weeks in advance and get a babysitter etc. And maybe even a night away...

And then there's Dash. Fin has always been "wiser than his years" and also far more his fathers child than mine. Don't get me wrong, we get along and where we don't get along is easy to chalk up to the fact that we're far too similar, and of course I love him in a way that I think maybe you can only love your firstborn. But I still vividly remember the shock of bringing Dash home and looking at Fin who had suddenly morphed from my baby into this giant man-child. Dash is still my baby in ways that maybe Fin never was. He's clingy where Fin was always independent. He lavishes his baby love on me with hourly "I love you mama's" (which are almost always said while holding my face or petting me in some way) and is constantly placing my arms around him and asking for security with "got me mama? Got me?" It's going to be extremely hard for him to make this adjustment and have to share me with a new baby. And there's a lingering part of me that's just not ready for him not to be my baby anymore.

So, here I am, sitting here larger than I can believe and still not entirely sure I'm ready for this pregnancy to end. And I only have 28 days or less to be ready.