|i found a little hint of spring this morning and it made my day|
First, I have to say thank you to all of my sweet friends - online and in real life, who have shared our excitement and wished us so many congratulations over babeskie number five. Nick and I both feel so blessed by how many have shared in our joy... we thought people might think we're crazy. And if you do think that, thanks for keeping mum.
(Fact is, we think we're a little crazy, too.)
The night I found out I was pregnant was hilarious, of course.
We'd put the kids to bed early and gotten a copious amount of sushi for a little date night in. We also had a couple of vodka sodas, like parents with four kids often do. (Or maybe that's just us?) We were talking about how amazing things were since bringing Frances home - how much peace she brought to the house, how easily the boys had adjusted, how complete our family felt, really for the first time.
It was upon uttering that word - complete - that it occurred to me that in God's good humor, I was probably pregnant.
I mean, it's happened before.
I slipped into the bathroom and took a test without telling Nick. Sure enough, there were those two pink lines.
I came out laughing. "Hey hon, guess what?" I asked, beaming.
He looked at me and knew immediately. "What? No. What?"
I showed him the test and he started laughing. I was already laughing. Crying and laughing.
"Are you sure that's a line?" he asked me about four thousand times.
I was sure; he wasn't convinced.
I mean, obviously it made sense. We just brought home a newborn. I was livin' it up with sushi and vodka.
What did we really expect?
It took three days and four tests for Nick to believe me. And please don't think he didn't believe me because he wouldn't be excited. This is the man that told me before we were even dating that he wanted ten kids. Heaven help me.
The truth is, the last six weeks have been hard. I was never this sick with the other two, and I have been utterly exhausted. I've been moody and unmotivated and I miss sushi and wine.
But things are getting better, slowly but surely. I have been blessed beyond measure by my husband, who has served me endlessly day in and day out, taking on every responsibility possible. He lets me sleep and does the dishes, and puts the laundry away. When he isn't here, my mom usually is, and she doesn't bat an eye when I disappear for three hours and fall into a coma. She brings food and watches my children, and does it without complaint. I can't ever repay her for her kindness.
And so. In seven months, Miss Frances will be a big sister, and life will be just a little busier and a little bit crazier.
And we couldn't be happier.