It was 9 pm, and I had just put my “almost” Irish twins to bed. They were in their own rooms, in their own beds, and fast asleep for the first time since we moved into our home. “Thank goodness,” I mumbled as I laid on my king-sized canopy with only the company of my husband. I haven’t slept in three years and I was looking forward to getting a full night of uninterrupted rest. I had barely closed my eyes when I heard him say, “Babe, let’s have another one.” My first thought was that he was joking, but then I realized he was every bit of serious. I didn’t answer him because he wouldn’t appreciate what was really on my mind. I was finally free of diapers, wipes, potty training and midnight feedings. There was no way I was going back. I rolled over, grabbed my phone and set a 9 am reminder. “Call the OB for BC,” was the title. “What are you doing?” he asked me. I told him nothing and drifted off to sleep.
With the blink of an eye, we were celebrating baby girl #2 nine-years later! “What am I going to do with three kids!” I thought to myself. My birth control plan was an ultimate fail and only delayed the inevitable. She was everything we didn’t expect: sweet, sugary and spicy! The entire house was in awe of our new addition and we couldn’t get enough of her. Then it hit me, here I was in a full-time career, a full-time mom of three, and a full-time wife. “Sigh.” I was getting tired all over again.
One day, it was just her and I home. I remember holding her and thinking, “what is all the fuss about?” I examined her eyes, her lips, her hair, her feet and her fingers. She was perfect! “You are beautiful,” I said aloud. Maybe I’m a little biased, but she was born blemish free and exactly how God intended. That was the moment I finally got it. I had a new pep in my step. She was, is my NEW MommyHue.
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