I'm nineteen weeks pregnant today.
Thursday night I sat on the couch until nearly midnight, hand on my belly, feeling the baby kick. I've felt blips I recognized as movement for the past few weeks, but Thursday night was the first time I've felt the undeniable sensation of a baby kicking just below my ribs. I sat perfectly still and pictured those tiny legs, and how, in just a few months, they will kick as I change a diaper. A few months more, and they will crawl across my floor, then stand, unsteady. And by the time Asher is ready for kindergarten those little legs will be running to keep up with two big brothers.
I thought about how third babies get lugged around, sleeping on their mom's shoulder, napping in car seats. By the time a third baby gets here, it's pretty hard to stop the tide of the day for a little one to sleep in (his? her?) bed. Third babies get squeezed in, in so many ways - master closets double as nurseries, car seats are jammed between the two older kids in the car. They miss the fanfare of a first child. But this third baby has an advantage (his? her?) brothers did not get. This third baby is getting a mother who knows exactly what she's getting into. During Asher's pregnancy I tried - in vain - to imagine how my life would change, and in Silas' pregnancy I worried - unnecessarily - that the task before me was too big. But this pregnancy is so different. This time I know that in a few months there's going to be a new little person here, with (his? her?) own little legs and personality and presence in our home. And for the first time, at nineteen weeks pregnant, I am nothing but excited.
Thanks be to God.