Four Pregnancies

Sometimes, I just can't believe I've been pregnant four times. Even worse, I'm going to deliver and recover four times. Ahhh, what have I gotten myself into?

On Tuesday I will hit my 36 week mark. The photo of me earlier today and the one pregnant with Nell (middle) are each at 36 weeks. Reid (at the top) was at 34 weeks and Coraline (bottom) was at 37. I've gained roughly the same amount of weight with each pregnancy -- between 20 to 25 pounds. Other things have definitely been different. For one, my starting weight was never the same.

Reid was the easiest pregnancy. By far. With Nell my worst symptoms were mild pukes during the first couple of months and then horrible dry and irritated skin during the last trimester. Coraline's pregnancy was more like Reid's -- but I had two little kids to take care of and occasionally watched an extra one-year-old during the last trimester. That made things rough. Plus, everything achy seemed to settle in a little earlier than before. I seem to have less aches this time around -- but we all know it was the roughest beginning I've ever had. So much puke! It's interesting how they are all different in their own little ways.

With Reid I ate really well and exercised regularly. He was still huge so I didn't do any of that with Nell. Recognizing the workouts helped with delivery and recovery, I decided I'd better get in shape for both the 3rd and 4th pregnancies. But I've never gone back to eating really well. Only Reid got that lucky treatment.

Last night I woke up kind of dreaming about the onset of labor. All my labors have started the same way, and this dreamy sleep actually made me really hopeful I would be going into labor soon. Once I was fully awake I remembered I still have 4 weeks and that was a little bit of a bummer. Hopefully this little nugget comes a few days early, like Nell, instead of a few days late, like Coraline.

Sometimes I think I/we could handle five kids just fine. But in the same breath I'm so over pregnancy and delivery. I am also anxious to out grow the baby stage. Sure, I'm looking forward to coos, cuddles, and breastfeeding one last time. But I'm also pretty confident I'm done. I want to get rid of all our baby items, like yesterday. I'm ready to have my body back, just to myself. I'm ready to get back into a career. I'm anxious to take family vacations where you don't have to lug one or more kids around on your back and shoulders. I guess if we are to have a fifth kid it will have to be a major oops or an older foster to adoption.

Four pregnancies (and babies) is enough for me!