The Third I Didn't See Coming

If you had asked me two years ago if I was going to have another baby, I would have said, hell no.

But everything changed when my niece, Lucy, was born.

The first time I held her, something shifted. I can't explain it any other way—it was like my heart knew before my mind did. There was more in me. More love. More attention. More time to give.

I was 38 that year, moving through perimenopause, trying to understand what was happening in my body. I had reached out to a new OB, running bloodwork, asking the quiet question—is another baby even in the cards for me?

At the same time, I watched my oldest with his new baby cousin. The way he held her. The way he looked at her. And slowly, something started growing in me.

The idea of a third.

Along with it came a little embarrassment—because I had told everyone I was done after Chuck. Two boys. That was always the picture in my head. A family of four, just as I grew up in. So naturally, our family felt complete.

But somehow… it didn't anymore.

I started noticing it in the smallest ways.

Something was missing.

One more stocking.

One more Easter basket to hide.

One more seat at the table during the holidays.

And then there was Cole—my empath.

We never really talked about the quiet itch I was feeling for a third, but he just knew.

One warm April morning, we were sitting at the end of our driveway waiting for the school bus. I looked at him and said, "Next year you'll be in first grade."

I felt like I had just delivered him, and now he was about to turn six.

He looked back at me and said,

"Yeah, Mom. And then I'll be getting a sibling."

I laughed it off. Kids say things like that all the time.

But he didn't let it go.

He told other people, too—including his teacher, who later congratulated me. I had to laugh and say, "No… I'm not pregnant."

Two weeks later, I saw two lines on a test.

The next time I saw his teacher, I told her—I actually am pregnant. I just didn't know it yet.

It's a story that feels so him. Seeing things before anyone else does. And in a way, it feels like this baby was never just mine.

He was always ours.

We all wanted him.

Bode was born on January 2nd.

Watching my two older boys with their baby brother is everything. The way they hold him. The way they look at him. And the way he looks back at them—I feel it every time.

My three sons.

They're mine.

And, they were always meant to be.

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