The day I found out I was pregnant with you was life-changing.
I took that pregnancy test at 2 in the morning and when I saw that it was positive
I couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night.
Am I really pregnant??
And even though those last few weeks of pregnancy were miserable
(what with the PUPPPs and all)
It was love at first sight.
I could barely move from the C-section.
But I had to see you.
I fumbled down the hospital corridor
determined to go get you.
“I want my baby!” I said.
I needed to see your square head and long blonde hair again.
You were a perfect baby.
I love you, B.
We tried for a long time to make you.
And God’s timing is perfect.
Same due date as Will, really!
My first trimester with you left me couch-stricken,
moaning with nausea.
I swore I’d never have another baby.
My birth with you was perfect.
And although I didn’t have that same instant connection,
I grew to adore everything about you.
You are the happiest child in the world.
And you are nothing but trouble.
Crawling like a rocket to that open bathroom door.
Tipping the TV over on top of you.
Diving off the changing table.
But you win me over with those sweet cuddles every time.
I love you, Lulu.
Dear Bean #3,
You were a bit of a surprise.
Always wanted, of course.
But still…a bit of a surprise.
Like I said, God’s timing is perfect.
I’m just trying to tell my brain that.
You are only the size of a lime.
A beautiful little lime.
You make me hungry and emotional.
And a little fat.
I’ve seen you twice.
You’re a slippery little bean.
My Thanksgiving baby.
We can’t wait.
I love you Bean 3.