Each time I prepare to welcome a new child into my life has felt different.  When I was expecting my first child 6 years ago, I was overwhelmingly excited and I went full steam ahead planning for what I’d need for baby – furniture, diapers, clothing, etc.  I also spent a lot of time planning for what I hoped would be an ideal birth experience (all of which did not happen as I ended up birthing him via cesarean due to him being in a breech position).  There wasn’t much apprehension or fear about adding to our family.  I was ready for him to join us and ready to take on life as a mother.

When I was expecting my second child 4 years ago, I naturally had a lot less time to think about him and to think about life after he joined us.  I was still in “baby mode” – I was busy mothering my toddler whose baby years weren’t far behind us.  I had all the material things I needed (I had actually gotten rid of a lot of things we never used for the first).  Most of my time spent thinking about him was devoted to preparing for a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean).  I thought a little bit about how our family dynamic would change and wondered a bit nervously how my toddler would respond to having a sibling.

Now I’m expecting our third child, who should join us sometime in the next month.  I have spent almost 6 years mothering and it’s been almost 4 years since my youngest was born.  It’s dawning on me, in these final weeks, how profound it truly is to have the opportunity to mother another person and to add another person to our family.  I never could have understood the depth of this commitment and opportunity when I was pregnant with my first.  I only mildly understood it as I waited for my second.  But as I’ve watched my two children grow into themselves and develop their own personalities, I think I am beginning to understand.  I understand what it means to love somebody more with every day that passes and I have learned that there is a difference between the way I love my newborns and the way my love evolves and deepens as my children grow. I have also learned about sibling love and the incomparable, and sometimes challenging, bonds that are formed between siblings.  I am struck these days, as I wait to meet our third child, with the gravity of all of this.   I am overwhelmed with gratitude.

But I am also scared this time in a way that I wasn’t with my other two.  I know so much more now as a mother, and as a professional working with pregnant and postpartum people.  And it’s been quite a few years of us living as a family of four. We’ve got it down and things are relatively relaxed without the intensity of a newborn or toddler in the house.  My mind can’t help but run through the “what-ifs.”  Will the birth go smoothly?  How will my recovery be?  Will I have a challenging or smooth postpartum transition?  Do I have everything I need for the postpartum period?  Will my older children be OK as their world is rocked by this sudden change?  Will they know that I love them just as much as I always have, even when I’m spending most of my time holding and nursing their newborn brother?  How will our family dynamic change?  How will my partner and I adjust to giving more of ourselves than we have in a while?  Are we really ready for this?  We are on the verge of big change. And, even as people who have always embraced and actively sought change, it scares us.

There’s no crystal ball, and there’s no knowing exactly how it will all play out.  I acknowledge my fears and uncertainties and know that they’re normal and OK.  As I acknowledge them, I work to surrender to what is and what will be.  These past years, with all of their ups and downs, have been a beautiful chapter of our family’s life, one that I will always cherish. But I don’t need to grip tightly to it with white knuckles, afraid to let it go.  Nothing is permanent, and life would be much less rich without change, growth, and evolution.  In my heart, I know that the next chapter, with all its ups and downs, will be beautiful in new and surprising ways.  I trust that this is the path we’re meant to be on as a family.  Gratitude, fear, acceptance, trust – they are all welcome here and I hold them all simultaneously as I prepare to meet our third child.