I still love being pregnant, but it's funny how this time around I notice little things that I won't miss about not doing it again. Like the acne. Jeez! I don't think it was as bad before, but maybe I just don't remember. And the utter exhaustion of the first trimester. Which I kind of recalled, but was surprised by how much it knocked me out and how much better I feel now that I'm solidly in the second trimester at 18 weeks.
This time I have restless leg syndrome a bit which is new. I realized today that when Pineapple graduates from high school, I'll be 57. Which means I'll be 61 when s/he graduates from college. (If s/he takes the direct route which neither parent did.) YIKES.
When we were still on the fence about having a third baby, there were times I'd feel wistful thinking about never again experiencing the blessing of growing a little person, feeling the kicks and wiggles and stretches in utero. And even though I always said I only wanted 2 kids, I would wonder what it would be like to have 3. Knowing this is our last, I think these negatives, though fleeting, result in the contentedness I feel about that decision. So thankful for the chance to do it one last time, though.