We're preparing now for another baby. We have a month to go, and although we are busy with school and work and basketball and everything in between, our sweet girl has become a part of almost everything we do. "Do you think Olive will like this book?" Charlie asks as we read before bed. "Can Olive sleep in here with me?" Henry wants to know. I wonder all day long what she will be like, look like, smell like, sound like. And Hank and I lay in bed at night and talk about the future- three children and what that means, dreams we have for our family, where we see ourselves in a year, two, ten.
And although most of the newborn days are hazy, I can remember each boys' birth vividly, and the moment they were placed on my chest. Looking in their eyes, taking in their features, feeling an "I know you" recollection that is part déjà vu and part something very, very old that aches in the sweetest way, felt deep in my heart. Both times it's been the oddest sensation. And I think I'm looking forward to that most of all- one last time to experience this first. Perhaps my most favorite first of all.
There aren't many instances in life we are able to get a do-over. I've written on this before, the feeling we get when we look back at something important in our lives. It's easy to feel that "if I knew then what I know now" and have thoughts about what we would do differently. That's a gift I find buried somewhere inside raising multiple children. With Henry, although I was warned of how fast it would go, I didn't fully grasp it. Time slipped by too quickly. It went by in a flash, newborn, three months, three years, halfway to twelve. And with Charlie, although I knew time would move even faster, I was able to be more intentional about it because yes, I had done it before. Third time around all I care about is slow. I know exactly how painfully quick the first week will go, followed by those first months. That newborn period, one of the sweetest there is, will be gone in the blink of an eye, floating away in a haze of sleeplessness and surviving. But intentional- that's my focus. Each day taking the time to soak up that happy, heavy feeling of a soft, warm baby nestled into my chest, the small sounds and facial movements, the stretching of limbs no longer confined, the steady breathing on my neck while she lays sleeping on me at night. And this time, the third time, I know enough to take extra pause each day to memorize as much as I can.
So here we are, this family of four, four weeks away from meeting the little one who will complete our family. March 10th for her birthday, a Friday that is 10 days before the start of spring. So fitting that our little girl would usher in this new season with a burst of excitement, a flurry of new. Flowers will be blooming and so will we, coming alive in the warm weather, sunshine on our faces and soaking up every bit of this new in our lives. Four to five, and so incredibly grateful. Here we go...
(all items c/o except the slippers, rug, and outfit)