I’ve been counting down to my late-September due date since my nausea began in week three clear back in late January.
For more than four months I lived with nausea nearly every waking moment, and it was during the peak of that nausea that I told Michael we were absolutely, positively finished having children after this one.
Funny thing about it, though, is that now that the nausea is gone, I see all of these cute, tiny babies and think, “Maybe, in three or four years, I will have the courage to do it again.”
Four kids would be a lot, though, but I’ve now gone from absolutely being finished with this third little edition to being open to the possibility of a fourth one, one day.
It’s like the old saying that you forget how terrible the labor is once you hold the baby, only in my case, I forget how horrible the nausea is when it finally passes somewhere after 20 weeks.