Subscribe viaI’ve just returned from another doctor’s appointment. Been able to spy on Baby Sister inside my belly through the magic of that ultrasound machine.
Everything this time around feels unknown.
With the twins, I knew I was having a c-section because Lane was breech, and my doctor was not comfortable delivering any other way with that presentation (not that there are that many other options). I didn’t know when the delivery was going to happen, but I showed up to the hospital for a routine non-stress test that they had me doing a couple times a week. The nurse, as usual, checked the amniotic fluid levels, and announced that she wanted a doctor to take a look because they were a little on the low side from last visit.
The doctor came in a few minutes later, took one look at me and said, “How far along are you?”
“38 weeks and 5 days,” I said. Because when you’re carrying multiples, you know exactly how far along you are. You are constantly aware of how important it is to keep those babies in as long as possible.
“I think you’ve made it far enough,” she says.
And that’s how I knew the babies were going to be born that day, December 23, 2008. I delivered them at Mary Birch Hospital in San Diego, the same hospital where Linsey had delivered Hunter and Tina had delivered Trevor. Familiar.
Now, it’s all different. Different hospital. Different doctor. Different country. According to the ultrasounds, she is measuring XL, so the doctor is still on the fence as to how Baby Sister is going to exit my body exactly. So I’m not sure what kind of delivery I’m preparing for. Not sure how I’ll tolerate labor. Not sure what we’re in for at this different hospital in this different country. Just generally not sure.
And, the greatest of all unknowns, not sure how I’ll do as a mother of 3. Yowza. I still can’t believe it. I can’t believe that we’re going to have 3 kids.
My initial crossover into motherhood was not perfectly blissful for me—which I have carried no small amount of shame over—and I have felt this impending anxiety about returning back to the haze that hovered over me for many of the early months of L&L’s life. I’m so scared of going back to that place—where life felt like I couldn’t lift it.
I’m scared of feeling all that all over again. Some of you know exactly what I’m talking about.
I’ve been trying to bring these concerns to Jesus, to share my thoughts on the matter and to confess my uneasiness/panic. And here’s what I felt like he’s given me . . . out of the blue . . . a little something to hold on to:
Trey is my younger brother and the 3rd child in my family. He is charming and funny and a joy. He’s my brother but he’s also my friend. I admire his ability to take it easy, relax, chill, let go, calm down. He brings this cool breeze in the door with him that wins everyone over. I just love him.
Every time I start to get scared about how we’re going to integrate Baby Sister into this already-mess, I think about Trey and I think about what our family would have been like without him.
I’m not saying Baby Sister is going to be a replica of Trey. I have no idea what she’s going to be like. But I think God has just been trying to offer me a little teaser. What if we hadn’t had Trey? Life in the Miller household would have been much more serious, much more spun up. Even today, what would we do without his ease, his carefree charm, his wit.
So I’ve been trying to trade in my anxiety lately for anticipation. What will BS bring to our family of four that we would have never experienced without her? What kind of quirky zest will she add to the mix? What might we experience that only she could have given us eyes for?
I can’t wait to find out.
While these thoughts don’t erase every last bit of unease, they do help me to focus on abundance instead of scarcity right out of the gates. Instead of dwelling on what will be diminished by adding another child; this is my invitation to dwell on what might be gained.
Thank you, God, for Trey. He is a prince. And thank you for BS, whoever she may be.
Looking forward to meeting you, little girl.
So so so love. The third is a wonderful child to have. After Zachary was born I likened the experience to letting go of the rock of control I clung to (the effort from which was sucking the life out of me) and learning how to enjoy the ride down the wild rushing river of life. There was an element of being in so far over my head I stopped trying to make it look good and just took each moment for what it was. Never was I so present in the present moment (because I was so incapable of looking any further) and that was a great gift for me.
You are a great mom, Leeana. God knows who you are right now and wants you to mother your children in the midst of it. He is choosing YOU for your children. And he has no hesitation about the whole thing. Looking forward to hearing more as the days unfold………
thank you — more than you know — for your encouragement, rebes. in many ways, this is an invitation to let go. i love that. words i will hold on to in the coming days.
Love the ltltie girls’ smile. She is lucky to have two older brothers to look out for her,,,,,
Oh, Leeana, you are blessed! And you will be an amazing momma to three! Your post title brought tears to my eyes, as we are experiencing “a third” as well, but unfortunately we are losing a third sweet baby to miscarriage. We found out I was pregnant again on January 4th, and had a blissful few weeks of Prometrium pills, Lovenox shots, and pure joy. This past Friday, we went to court to finalize Jude’s readoption as an official Texan and the final legal step in our entire adoption process…and I began to miscarry later that day. One beautiful child gained, and one precious child lost. I rocked Jude to sleep that night, hoping my falling tears wouldn’t disturb his sweet, steady breathing. We are praising God for him, even in the midst of our pain. After just one month home, we are completely in love and already can’t imagine our lives without him, though the adjustment from one to two little ones has been a challenge for me! Your baby girl is sure to be the perfect addition to your family, and I will be praying for y’all through the unknowns and transitions! Much love, Britt
Brittney, your journey is just unimaginable. I read your comment a few hours ago and have been thinking about you ever since. I am so sorry. The greatest of joy shot through with the greatest of pain. And the greatest of pain shot through with the greatest of joy. May God be very near to you as you walk this road. I’m with you. As we say in my growth group, I see you. I hear you. And I love you. May you know his love today.
Leeana, thank you for this. My heart is in a good place. Have you read “Lament for a Son”, by Nicholas Wolterstorff? If not, I’m pretty sure you will love it. As much as one can love a book about lamenting loss. It’s a tiny book, but reaches so deeply and honestly that it took me a few days to get through it for all the processing and tears. Anyway, I love all your book recommendations and thought I’d leave one of my own. Blessings to you today.
Leeana, Congratulations! I remember meeting you last spring when you spoke at the SDCWG and we were both struggling with morning sickness
Being on the other side, with number three in my arms, makes me so excited for you! Your heart will expand in ways you never thought possible. And to watch your children’s hearts go through the same transition will be one of the most beautiful things you’ll ever experience. Sending a prayer for a safe delivery for you and baby sister!
Thank you so much, Joanne. It’s great to hear that you have survived the transition and are loving it! Amazing. Gives me great hope Thanks for reading!!!! Hope you’re writing is going well.
Leeana, I’m praying for a safe delivery of this little girl. I know you will do great as a mom to her and integrating her into your family. Thanks for keeping us all updated. Can’t wait to see pictures.