This is my last baby. My last time to be pregnant. To feel the little kicks and hiccups. To watch my belly slowly grow round. This is my last time to have the anticipation of labor, the counting of contractions and wondering if my water will break. It’s my last time to feel labor pains and rush to the hospital. To have family on alert for the "it’s time" call. My last time to push a baby out of my body through sheer strength and determination. It’s my last time to hear that first cry. My last time to hold my new baby and feel a love you can never experience until you become a parent, no matter how many times over.

This is my last baby and I am trying desperately to savor each tiny detail so that I truly remember it all. This is my last baby and I am both relieved and completely heart broken all at the same time.

This is my last baby b/c I am getting my tubes tied while in the hospital with Grayson. So yes my doubting family, this IS my last baby.

I have to say that over and over to myself every day now or I would go crazy with these constant, yet going nowhere contractions. I say it to remind myself that this pain in my ribs will soon be gone. I say it so that the insomnia doesn’t seem so impossible to deal with. I say it b/c I have to make my heart ok with this decision. I say it to remind myself that this is right for our family. I say it to make it real.

But why in the world is everything so mixed up, backwards, and hard?

Why do I want this pregnancy to be over so desperately all the while savoring each moment I have left just being pregnant?  Why do I know in my head that no more kids is the exact right decision but I know that every time I see an infant my heart will ache?  Why could I cry each night as I lay here wanting this baby out b/c of the false labor pain but also cry b/c the end is near and I don’t want to know I’ll never experience this again? How can there be tears for both sides of the coin?

I wish I knew the answers.  I take solace in knowing that God has the answers so I shouldn’t worry.  Although most days I still wish I had the answers.  I guess right now I need to grieve the loss of knowing it’s my last while joyfully anticipating the birth of our son. I can do both right?

Did anyone else feel this way with their last?  Is this just hormones or is ok to be sad?

As you can see, the plan of "walking the baby out" didn’t work today and instead I am exhausted and sore (with a couple good treasures) and left with these thoughts still in my head. 

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