So up until about, uh, a month ago, I pictured us having one more after this...close after this. But the more I see people that are done...that have babies that are 5 and 6 years old, the more I'm ready to be there. I think 5 might be our magical number. Each pregnancy is so much worse too. not only is there more to get done as I have more kids, but the sickness is worse, and my fatigue and age kill me with that. This pregnancy I KNOW, will be hard with all that's going on. Possibly leaving our lovely home that I've grown so attached too, along with all the land that we've dreamed of having our final home and family orchard on (that has already been started). And Jase building up a THIRD clinic, being gone a few days (and nights) a week. I sit and cry about it every few hours, I can only imagine when it all comes to pass.
And I KNOW if we do end up moving there will be so many great things too. Being so close to sisters and nieces and friends. And the kids are so excited to be by cousins (except Kam...she's like me and LOVES our country/farm life and is dreading leaving it). I can actually have the lettuce wraps I crave instead of filling that craving with grape nuts, bananas, or salsa. We can go on fun exciting dates again. We can take the kids to ball games again, and zoos and museums. But I will ALWAYS miss the country life. I love it! LOVE IT! UGH!
So, I'm trying to really enjoy every gruesome moment of the first trimester of my last baby. I know when the nausea goes away and the kicking starts, it'll be easier to enjoy and embrace, but the thought of this being the last does make it easier to endure this first trimester. blah!