After I had Julia, people often asked, “So, are you going to have another one soon?” Having a second child was expected. Encouraged, even!
After I had Lucy, less likeable people often asked, “So, you’re probably finished having kids now, right?” They began to tell scary stories that included statistics like the average cost to raise a child in the U.S. today and how the youngest is the most popular birth order in jail.
Now I just get, “Another one?” followed by an eye roll from people who will never be invited to live in my commune.
Becoming pregnant with a third child is an act of courage, you see, because one child is good, two is ideal, but three? Number three is like a threat to take over the world. Suddenly, we’re The Duggars. Or some cult. Who do we think we are procreating like this? Are we maniacs? Haven’t we heard of birth control? Don’t we realize that three is too many? We’re taking up too much space on the planet! Go away crazy baby-makers!!!
But, you can call me crazy. As I lay in the dark, belly exposed, awaiting the application of goo for my ultrasound, the moment felt no less special than the first time I saw Julia all skeletal and fuzzy on a monitor. But then again, I may be weird. I met thousands of people before I met Dave and I wasn’t all, “Ugh. Another human. Like I haven’t seen one of those before.” I was impressed by him and fell in love. There’s something about people I find interesting. I guess I’m kooky. And the thing about the baby in my belly is this: it’s an actual person. For that reason, I was pretty excited to take a look at it.
Grimmett 3.0 was excited, too, because WOW! That kid put on a show, kicking and swimming and twisting and flipping over! It was amazing. It’s incredible what you can’t feel in your uterus at 12 weeks. We were all mesmerized, including Lucy. Her eyes were so wide. She kept looking at the transducer on my belly, then the screen, then my belly, then the screen. And when the ultrasound tech gave her her very own baby picture, she said a quick, “Shanks,” then turned and held it up to Grandma and shouted, “Mama baby belly!!!”
The baby’s heart rate was 158 beats per minute. Boy or girl? We don’t know yet. I definitely have a feeling, but I’m going to wait and see as a prediction gone wrong can often be misconstrued as disappointment.
But I will tell you this: there is no way this child can disappoint me. This child is wanted and loved. Julia says Baby Grimmett knows it, which is why we saw all those jumps for joy.
Already, we have a happy baby.