Number four is arriving late October 2015. If someone had told me five years ago that I would have four kids, I would have thought they were nuts. And yet, here I am, pregnant (by choice!) with number four.
After Saige was born, I thought for sure three would be it. It wasn’t a month later that I realized I really wanted another so she could have a close sibling like Blaise and Laine have each other. And from all the older moms I’ve chatted with, I’ve often heard they wished they had more children. Never once have I heard anyone regretting a child they had. Brian wasn’t sold at first—or maybe just wasn’t ready, he wanted four when we first started dating—but as we rang in 2015, he was on board. And being Brian, he likes to have the name selected before we even try. In January, we were watching The November Man with Pierce Bronson. Brian said that was the name, either way. So we had him on board with a fourth, a name selected… I took a test on his birthday, Valentine’s Day, and got a negative.
Lucky for me (and not for Target), I kept accidentally stealing pregnancy tests so I had plenty. When the big kiddos are in school, Saige and I often stop at Target on our way to pick them up to grab whatever items I forgot the last time we went. She was still riding in the infant car seat that I would put inside the cart. Items would get wedged under her seat and I’d miss grabbing them when we’d check out. By the time I’d unload the bags and get her back in the van, I’d see the miscellaneous items under her seat. And because the pregnancy test aisle is one of the first I’d stop in, the tests would get wedged first. Butter is another culprit. Blaise once stole a bag of carrots from Target and I didn’t realize he had until I lifted him from the cart to his car seat. I put him back in the cart, went back inside to guest services, and told them what happened and asked to pay. The employee just looked at me and said, “It’s okay, just keep them.” If not for that experience, I’d likely still take each item back in. Maybe I should. I don’t know. (I also legitimately bought tests, too.)
So, a negative on Valentine’s Day. Even though I was testing way too early and knew this, I was disappointed. Another month of trying and hopefully not getting another negative was in store. Until Monday… I had one test left so I figured there was no harm in taking it. The faintest of faint lines appeared. I wasn’t even sure if it was actually there of if I was just allowing myself to see something. I took a picture to see if it popped up in the photo. It did.
That Monday was President’s Day so we didn’t have dance and swimming. I emailed Brian asking if he wanted to meet for lunch (I can’t keep a secret from him for the life of me). I was proud I was able to wait until he got into the car, albeit I spilled the news before he even buckled in. In a repeat from when I tested for Saige, he wasn’t sold that a faint line was actually a positive. Although he was happy if it were true, he was skeptical (his nature for everything). I was out of legitimate and stolen tests, so I bought another package and waited a few days. Three tests. The line got darker and darker each day I tested. Number four was FOUR sure, haha.
This pregnancy has been mostly a breeze—aside from all the life chaos—much like Blaise and Laine. Saige was a horrible, terrible experience but she’s been the easiest baby so the trade-off has been more than worth it (we’d still take her if she was difficult!). I did start to show much earlier than before, which I’ve heard happens since your body kicks into baby gear sooner since it knows what to do. I do imagine it’ll get more and more interesting being out with the three as I officially look pregnant these days. I’m pretty sure I had a look at Target with the three yesterday.
It was always an interesting experience with each pregnancy. When I was pregnant with Laine, Blaise was so young that I’d get interesting looks or there was that one older lady who told me I had sex too soon after having Blaise (which may be true on the books but I was cleared by my doctor). And then having the idealized (bullshit) boy and then girl, I was often told I could stop since I had one of each. Pregnancy number three was more entertaining. If I was out with just Blaise, I’d be asked if I was having a girl. And if I was out with just Laine, I’d be asked if I was having a boy. When I was with both, people would look at my belly, then to Blaise, Laine, and then back to my belly. As if having a third was unheard of. Maybe in this area it isn’t common but it’s not that weird. Even just last week when I was having my 20-week ultrasound, the tech—as sweet as she was—was running through her standard spiel when I stopped her and said that as exciting as this may be for others, I didn’t really care so long as the kiddo is healthy and everything looks good since this is my fourth. I just wanted to enjoy some quiet—me time I suppose, despite the location—away from the three. She laughed and I said that I know we live in a two and done area, and that I’m not even Mormon. She laughed and asked, “Catholic?” I said, “Nope, atheist.” She laughed again and said I was definitely in the minority having four in this area.
We were going to wait to find out the gender until birth but during my chaotic urgent care experience in May and follow-up at my doctor, I accidentally found out. My doctor has a small ultrasound machine and while checking on the heartbeat, turned the machine to me to show me and right as he did, the baby gave a full-on between the legs shot. Knowing what to look for and not even trying to see, I saw. I asked Brian if he wanted to know and while disappointed I knew, he didn’t want just me knowing. So we know.
This is my last. I think Brian’s, too but he’s hesitating getting snipped. And now that we’ll be in a five-bedroom home, he teases we could double-up each room (NO!). I’m pretty sure he’s good but given how quickly I get pregnant, it’s on him to get snipped.
It’s bittersweet. I’m ready to have number four and move past babies, and get into the next phase of life (whatever that holds) but I’ll miss being pregnant and having the hospital experience (which I love).
Pierce will be here October 27, if all goes as planned. And it’ll be October 27 before we know it.
Jumping Raccoons 