My pregnant wife.

Where do I even begin?

Can I just start by stating a little story about a daydream I had the other day? Cool. OK, while glancing around my bedroom after my wife left for work the other night, I thought of her. I think of her all the time actually. This particular time, as I stared at the bag lying next to her side of the bed in case she needs to throw up, I felt something tug at my heart. Something that needed to be shared. I saw the half-full (or half-empty for the pessimists out there) glasses of water left behind in various locations. I looked down at the new sandals recently purchased. Then I saw the comforter totally messed up on the bed, half of it wadded up on her side with the pillows bunched up stacked all over each other on her side too.

I looked over and saw the prescription bottles on the dresser for nausea, and saw and empty box lying next to it for motion sickness. I thought back to the very first time she got pregnant back in 2007. I remember the anguish and look of anger, sadness, and astonishment on our face when we found out that she had a blighted ovum, and that she had miscarried that baby.

I thought back to the look on my oldest two daughter’s faces when I told them that their new sibling was no longer on the way. It was horrible. It was a hard thing to tell them, and my wife and I drifted apart after that. Not just emotionally, but we physically moved away for a couple of months. After collecting our thoughts, and reassembling the broken pieces of our hearts, we tried again. Thank God.

My six year-old daughter is an absolute joy to be around. She almost single-handedly made me want better for myself, and my entire family. Having her come into our lives was a turning point on how I looked at the world. When my five year-old daughter was born, she had to spend a couple of days in the NICU. It was the first time anything like that had happened to me. I was scared out of my mind. Thank God she was OK, and still is. She is the loudest of the bunch, but probably loves on me more than the other three kids of mine combined. She asks me at least twenty questions a day, it seems like, and I love every ounce of her being.

We’ve gone quite a few years without really discussing any other children, and yes, getting a divorce from my wife definitely didn’t make me think I would ever have another kid. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, or sad thing, to be done having children. There are thousands of people in this world who physically cannot have children. I have been blessed beyond my wildest dreams with not only having four children, but with WHO they are.

Yes, I realize I have played a “part” in who they are becoming, but the fact is I am not alone in raising any of them. Their support group is big, it is amazing, and I am truly thankful for all four of them.

So, why another kid? As I daydreamed the other night, I thought of my life. I thought about my kids, and I thought about our future. I thought about my wife, as I do every day, about how she is doing so far in this pregnancy. As I stood there, I thought for a moment “What if it was me?” What if “I” had to be the one to carry my children?

Seriously.

What if men were the ones to give birth? How many kids would I have then?

You know, for the guys that are reading this blog, think about that for a second. Then think about how you treat your child(ren)’s mother on a daily basis. I really do believe that mothers are angels here on earth. They sacrifice their bodies for nine months, carrying a child that us guys secretly hope will be “daddy’s girl” or “daddy’s boy.” Why? Why would we want to take away something so precious from our kid’s mom?

It isn’t fair. I know it isn’t. That doesn’t mean I don’t revel in every fleeting moment I get with my kids. That means I make sure my kids know that mom exists. That she matters. That she’s awesome. That she’s amazing. That she deserves 1000 more hugs than I do.

Click HERE to watch my reaction to the news that I would be a dad for a fifth time!

Click HERE to watch my youngest two daughter’s reaction that they were gaining a new sibling!

Click HERE to watch my wife’s reaction to the news that she would give birth for a third time!

I thought about my wife working overnight, and the morning sickness that just won’t quit. I realize the first trimester is over, this baby is real, this baby is happening, and this person I share my life with is doing it AGAIN. She’s giving life to another individual, and in return is giving me life yet again.

I love her for it. I can’t even explain just how much I do. That phrase “You make me want to be a better man,” couldn’t sum up my feelings about her any more.

I’m typing this all down right now, because I’ve been taking her for granted. Life happens, and I just do that sometimes. I wish I didn’t, but I just do. So, for my pregnant wife, and for all the pregnant women reading this, and for those that have given birth before—you are appreciated. Thank you. And to my Beanie Baby, I love you. Sorry I said you’re mean.