Julian turns one on May 31. One. An entire year has gone by. This picture was taken approximately one year ago. What a difference twelve months can make. At this time last year, I was ready to burst. I felt uncomfortable, impatient, nervous and excited. I was waiting.
When I look at this picture most of me thinks "Oh THANK GOD, never again!" I see how stretched my body was, I remember how hard it was to sleep and eat. These days when I get down about my current shape, I try to remember that my stomach did this THREE times. Not only did it carry three babies, but it also endured having it's muscles cut and stitched back together THREE times. Of course, at the end of the day I still wish I had abs of steel.
Although most of me is thankful that I will never experience the physical discomfort of pregnancy again, there is also a piece of me that cannot believe this phase of my life is over (which it is, 100%. Done. Doors closed.) At the risk of sounding truly corny, pregnancy is magical. Growing a baby, feeling it move, holding a newborn for the first time. Those moments will forever be some of the best of my life.
But now it's done. I am quickly becoming a mom to grade school children, and my last baby is just about one. I know the years will only come quicker and someday soon the boys will be all grown.