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I’m not always great at keeping my feelings to myself. Even if I try, my face usually gives me away. That, in combination with me sharing pretty openly on this little corner of the Internet, means that it’s not really a secret to anyone that baby #3 was a surprise.

I nursed my oldest for a year. It was a great experience, but needless to say after pregnancy and nursing I was ready to have my body back.

Two weeks after I quit nursing, I found out I was pregnant.

I’m a compulsive planner, so this unexpected news threw me for a loop. I couldn’t wrap my head around having two kids under two. It’s not how I would have planned it. I couldn’t adjust to the idea of how room sharing with three kids in two bedrooms would work. I couldn’t wrap my head around my body not being mine for another two years of my life. I couldn’t wrap my head around starting over with sleepless nights. I couldn’t wrap my head around three carseats, three dressers full of clothes, three kids to shop for at Christmas, three birthday parties to plan each year, three social security numbers to remember.

Okay so you get the idea. I sort of went into a tailspin.

But, somewhat counterintuitive to my control-freak nature, is my belief that things happen for a reason. So here we are.

I love kids and I love being a mom. I may have had a teeny weeny panic moment when the stick turned blue (and for a few months after), but I never doubted that we were exactly where we were meant to be. I loved this little human who turned my world upside down before I even met her. And to be honest, I admired her. She overcame a lot of odds to make her way into this world. You can’t help but respect that kind of determination, especially in such a small package.

September 16, 2016 at 7:13 a.m. we became parents of three, a family of five. And suddenly it was like the piece we hadn’t even realized was missing was finally in place.

In the last twelve weeks since she was born, I’ve wondered more than once if I would regret being open about the fact that she was an “oops”. I never want her to look back on her story and think that she wasn’t wanted. That she wasn’t needed. Sometimes even the most meticulous planners don’t know what they need until they are watching it sleeping peacefully in their arms.

I also hope that when she looks back on the legacy of her life that she knows that, even though she blew up our whole carefully planned little world, I loved her all the more for it.

Maybe it’s because with each child my heart stretches a little further or maybe because the longer I’m a mother the wider my heart opens. Or maybe it’s because this little baby is sweeter than sugar on a sugar cookie.

But every time I look at her sweet little sleeping face, my heart swells so big that I can feel it pushing on the insides of my chest. And every time she looks up at me with her bright little eyes and her face lights up and she smiles, I feel how much I love her rise up in my throat and I literally tear up because it’s more love than can fit in my body.

I literally tear up, y’all. Every time.

My heart was so full of love before she came along that I didn’t know I needed anything else.

And then she appeared and now my heart overflows every day.

Just think what I would have missed out on if I had stopped when my heart was only full.

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