short answer: I don’t feel ready.

big picture answer: I know I’m meant to be a mother of three (boys).

If I were to compare my preparedness for this baby to my previous pregnancies, it would be laughable. I am surrounded by chaos. My house is an active volcano. I am never on top of my laundry—if anything I’m hiding underneath it. Dishes are Ryan’s job now, which means, they don’t get “done” until 6 am the next morning. Meals are made in the Instant Pot or were previously frozen. The only positive change is that I shower daily, mainly because I don’t want to go into labor unwashed (I’m writing this at 38 weeks pregnant).

With the first pregnancy, prepared meant, expanding our duo to a trio. It meant overcompensating because we had no idea what to expect when welcoming a newborn. We had ALL the things and then some. We were ready according to book and blog recommendations. We asked hundreds of questions to friends who had gone before us. We even welcomed unsolicited advice. We thought having “more than enough” would prepare us. If you want me to jump ahead, know that nothing could have prepared us for becoming first time parents. No matter how much stuff we had, it wasn’t enough to build our confidence as mom and dad. We were helpless and clueless. We fumbled. We were frazzled. We were emotionally torn apart. Then after 5 weeks, we found our groove. We figured things out. The struggle persisted but so did our strength to adapt and overcome. First-time parenting is like war. You can’t really describe it like you experienced it. But once you’re on the other side, you feel invincible or ready to try for a second kid.

My second pregnancy was clouded by Ryan’s upcoming deployment. He was slated to leave something during the month of our second son’s birth. We wouldn’t know the exact date he’d leave until about a week in advance. I was stressed. I wanted Ryan to be at the birth more than anything. Preparing for this birth also meant preparing for Ryan’s absence. I focused on making streamlined systems, since I would be alone with a toddler and a newborn for 6 months. Looking back, I really rose to the occasion. Sure, I was in survival mode but I was determined. I was organized. I didn’t wallow. I wasn’t a first-time mom. I knew what to expect. I knew what I needed. I let myself be confident.

How do I explain why I feel unprepared now? I think it’s because I know this is my last baby. I won’t be in this phase again. I won’t wear another baby that is mine in carrier after this one outgrows it. I won’t experience pregnancy again. I won’t experience a birth again. Perhaps, I’m not prepared because I’m subconsciously ignoring my need to nest. I don’t want this pregnancy to end because it means I will never feel a baby growing inside me. But if it doesn’t end, I won’t get to experience the sweet helplessness of a newborn. If I don’t let the next stage come, I won’t know the baby that is coming to me. I’m not prepared to say goodbye.

I must say goodbye so I can say hello.

My house might not be organized “enough” to my standards. But maybe that’s the point. This baby will join our chaotic lives. It will be different than my first son where we had to form a life around him. It will be different than my second son, which was about my older son accepting his role as brother. This little boy will slide right in to the messy mix. We are ready for him because his place is already set. Now, I just need to lean in and steady myself for the persistent waves of life with three boys.