Thirty Eight

I turned the ripe old age of thirty eight on the twenty fifth of January.


If you had told me I’d be 37 weeks pregnant with our third child at the age of 38, I would have laughed hysterically in your face.

I never imagined I’d be a mother to one child let alone three. When I was in my teens and 20s I was sure I didn’t want children. Then I changed my mind and stated I’d like one (mostly, I knew I could only handle one, ha).

It wasn’t until I turned 30 that I/we seriously entertained the thought. Then I told myself my “cut off” (for having kids &/or getting pregnant) was 35. Obviously that didn’t work out quite like as I planned.

Isn’t that life though? You can make all these plans for the future, but in reality you’ve absolutely no control of how things will work out. Planning can only take you so far. That’s the frustratingly beautiful and exciting part of it.

I’m a planner by nature. I like to know what’s going to happen next – my next move, what I can expect, what is expected of me… It has taken me a long while to be OK with ‘going with the flow’, to relax. It wasn’t until I became a mother/parent did I realize I had to give up control sometimes (read: most of the time) and it’s totally OK to do so.

Here’s hoping the year ahead will be a good one. After all, we’ll soon be a family of 5 and it can only get better from there!

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