My Unexpected Third Child

My husband and I both come from close-knit families of five. As the middle child, I liked having an older sibling to look up to and someone younger I could teach the ways of the world. So, I thought when the time came to start a family, I’d have three kids. But then reality set in. I didn’t get married until I was in my late twenties, and had my first kid at thirty-one. My son came along almost three years later and he is so lovable, but very rambunctious. So, between work and raising a family, I’m damn tired. Still, being a mom is the most rewarding experience and I never knew how much love the heart is capable of until I had children. But when my husband and I discussed having a third, we felt we had our hands full and were already blessed with a beautiful family. But I still longed for another from time to time.
The decision weighed on me and my mind would race as it often does when I get in bed. Did I make the right decision? Did I put my daughter’s library book in her back pack? Did I remember to send out that email? Should I have a third? To take my mind off things, I started thinking up scenarios. Little snippets of stories, all disconnected. Then one night I had a grand vision, and a seed was planted. I always knew I wanted to write a book, and here was my final chapter. I wrote it first then started capturing the other snippets. Random musings that were disconnected slowly started making sense. As with a child, I nurtured the story and watched it grow, until one day it all came together. A book was born. And I realized that writing brought me great joy. While my love for the craft can never compare to the love I feel for my children, it fulfills a passion and seems like something I was meant to do.

My book has been my baby—my unexpected third child.

It’s demanding and all consuming, but I feel such a strong connection I can’t imagine my life without it. People ask how I found the time to write a book. The truth is I didn’t: I made time. There will never be enough hours in the day. But I believe we have to find time to embrace our passions.  So I found pockets when I could and didn’t relent. It took me longer than I would have liked, but I’m at the finish line. Now, as my due date looms, I have similar hopes and fears as when I embarked on motherhood. Am I doing things right? Will people like it? Will it be successful? So I’m taking the advice I will give my children someday: Just be true to yourself and follow your dreams. You never know where they will lead you.