With all the joy that I have about adding another kid to our household, I still have one nagging bit of sadness:
The knowledge that the dream of going away alone with my husband, even spending a night by ourselves, will slip decidedly from my grasp.
Since having children over six years ago, we've never been overnight together alone, a regret that makes me weepy every time I think about it.
It's certainly not for a lack of desire, but rather a combination of difficult circumstances - breastfeeding babies, far away families, and challenging work schedules.
I know that if we had tried hard enough or made it a priority, we could have made it happen. But we didn't. Or rather, I didn't - mostly because I wanted just one thing that I didn't have to plan.
My husband is full of great ideas, none of which ever actually happen. Instead, I'm left hearing about them all after the fact. And then left to just doing it myself if I really want to get it done.
"I was going to rent a plane and fly you to New Orleans to propose" he said. Instead I found my ring under a bowl on our bed.
"I was going to get my mom down here to watch the kids so we could go away" he told me. But apparently there was only one weekend that it could happen on and that since came and went.
Sometimes I wish he'd just never say anything.
Leaving two kids would have been a no-brainer. Three kids is a bit challenging for my mom and my in-laws, but still doable.
Life will go on. We'll charge forward as a family of six.
And one of these days, it'll happen.