David and I had always discussed having a big family when we were in the early years of our relationship. Now 10 years on this August we’re a lot more logical about things and agreed that perhaps two children would be enough. We could provide for them, do more with them, be more involved in their lives, financially it would make sense and now we’re in the third trimester of our second pregnancy I’m feeling rather emotional about the fact this will be the last time...
The last time I feel the sensation of a baby wriggling around inside of me
The last time we’ll see that little baby on the sonography screen
The last time we’ll take that journey to the hospital that feels like an eternity.
The last time I will get to experience labour
The last time I will try and breastfeed our baby
Everything about this baby will be our last and as he grows I can only imagine this acceptance getting harder.
It all seems so final, the practicality of having two children makes complete sense and we know we are so lucky to have two wonderful children, we are thrilled that we get to experience the challenges and triumphs of raising a boy and a girl and all the other things entails, but even so it doesn’t make it any easier. How can you be sure that this one is the last one?