Well, this little conundrum has been effectively settled-- I am pregnant with our third child. And with the discovery of our March blessing to come, I have entered into an era of motherhood that is strange and foreign to me.
I have entered the land of The Last.
This is the Last time I will pee on a stick and celebrate, worry, cry, and giggle. It is the Last time I will tell my husband that our love made a child (I know, gag me, right?) It is the Last time I will carry that particular secret, doling it out carefully to the need-to-knows, and letting others discover only when my belly is too large to ignore.
Some of these Lasts are welcome. Hopefully, it will be the Last time I spend entire days nibbling on crackers and rushing to hover over the toilet bowl every ten minutes. It will be the last time my body is stretched to popping, the last of the stretch marks, the last of the attempts to sleep around a bowling ball.
Most of these Lasts are bittersweet. When this baby is finally felt, it will be the Last first flutter I feel of growing a life. It is the beginning of the Last of so many firsts-- first breath, first smile, first steps. While each of these milestones will be met with pride and a smile, they will still be the Last time I watch my baby do those things for the first time.
I am blessed in this pregnancy in a way I was not with my daughter-- I wasn't sure if she was last, and I had a one year old at the time she was conceived. I missed so much. I just didn't pay attention like I wish I had now.
But I am paying attention now, you'd better believe it. I want to remember all of this, this Last time.