The Always Jacked family has some news to share.
It’s of a sort that I thought my wife, my better half in nearly every sense of the word, would offer a perspective worth sharing and much different than mine. Especially since our news — SPOILER ALERT — affects her so much more than me right now.
I stand aside. The microphone is hers. But I retain the right to make the sporadic, parenthetical aside. Such is the nature of our relationship IRL.
Such is the nature of this post.
We always knew we’d have two kids. That was a given.
But three? We have talked — ad nauseum — about whether to go for a third or not. (Editor’s note: This is true.)
There were so many things to consider. We already have two beautiful, healthy boys. A third college tuition? (Editor’s note: Ack!) Do we have to get a new car? Can I handle a third? We would be outnumbered. Totally and forever outnumbered.
But these ‘concerns’ always gave way to what it would mean for us and the boys. And we both shared a feeling that wouldn’t go away.
Someone was missing.
Alan told me that 2013 would be our year of adventure. (Editor’s note: It was considerably less obnoxious than it sounds.)
In January, I was offered a great opportunity to work for a start-up company two days a week. He’d just started a new job. We were off to a good start.
Exactly two weeks later, we found out we were expecting our third child.
In those first moments, when the stick went all plus sign positive, I was only excited. (Editor’s note: She knew before she took the test. She always knows. I never believe her.) That changed pretty quick. My excitement turned to relentless nausea that had Alan holding my hair back more than once. Queasiness that was so strong it woke me up at 2:30 in the morning.
The boys would watch me gag and imitate the noises, laughing uncontrollably. Reid toddling about going ‘bleh blehk’ with a hand to his mouth was pretty common and entertaining despite my overall lack of enthusiasm.
While I was afraid (and literally cried) that it would never end, it did. Slowly but surely things got easier, my ginger gum habit subsided, and by week 14 life with my littlest one was feeling much better.
Wednesday was my 20 week ultrasound. Our little babe is continuing to look healthy as can be. Warm flutters and kicks are gentle reminders of all that’s to come once he/she (nope, we aren’t finding out 😉 ) makes an appearance sometime in late September.
Until then, I’m going to revel in the fact that this will most likely be the last time I’ll feel those familiar flutters. (Editor’s note: It is the last time she will feel these familiar flutters.) Or share ultrasound pictures with Jack. It’s an amazing thing. And the coolest thing about doing it a third time is that it’s not any less cool. Or special. Or exciting.
This maybe our year of adventure. But this. This is the adventure I’m most excited about. (Editor’s note: Me, too.) Growing our family of four to five. And while I know it won’t always be easy, I do know that it’s not just right. It’s perfect.