Thirty-six and Pregnant. 

I probably couldn’t pitch it as reality show on MTV, but it’s almost just as shocking (to me) as if it were one and, likely, just as entertaining. I’m just not certain anyone would really want to watch me chronicle my geriatric pregnancy while parenting three kids, keeping my marriage fresh, running my business from home, and navigating life. Except, possibly, other 36-year-old moms. Maybe?

For me, pregnancy at thirty-six did come as a shock. The weekend we found out was cold and snowy, I was a couple days late, and I sent Brandon to the store because there was that one night when, I guess, it could’ve happened?????

ONE NIGHT. ONE TIME. WHAT EVEN.

If you’re familiar with the Mullins family, then you know we tried pretty dang hard for our last two kiddos. Beck came after we’d been married for a little over a year. We tried for a few months and were pregnant easily. Then, secondary infertility found us, and a series of medications and IUIs didn’t even help us conceive. We adopted our daughter after almost an entire year of waiting, plus a failed adoption #blessingindisguise. Benny was conceived a year later after a helpful surgery.

All that to be said: we’re not ONE TIME people. We’re the try-try-and-try-again-fail-repeat people. 

So, the fact that I could pinpoint the day (my birthday…there might’ve been adult beverages involved, ahem), is pretty shocking. 

Having been a bit of a pregnancy test connoisseur in a former life (like, I probably took a hundred or so tests when we were trying), I knew the indications of that first pink line.  I emerged from the bathroom holding a positive test, a look of amazement on my face, and right into the arms of my husband who was equally as surprised. WHAT EVEN.

I really believe that God knew that was his last chance to gift us with one more little. We had no intentions of “trying” for a fourth, so if he didn’t take advantage of that ONE TIME the chances of Mullins Baby #4 were pretty slim. Being 100% transparent, I’ll admit that it’s taken me some time to move beyond surprised to excited. I’ll tell anyone that we’re soooooooo surprisexcited. #newword With kiddos that are largely independent and diaper-free, it’s a little mind-blowing to think we’ll be starting fresh in September. 

Yes, Baby Mullins #4 will be here on September 19th-ish. I’m wrapping up the first trimester this coming week #praisehands, and am sporting a prominent baby bump that I can only attribute to a third pregnancy and all the Coke/Chick-fil-a/ice cream/cheeseburgers/junk food I’v eaten. In my defense, I’ve felt like garbage for much of the past eight weeks and food and I had a weird relationship during that time. Also, I’m not a tiny, cute preggo. I’m just not. I’m the gain-sixty-pounds, swollen-everything preggo. But, that’s a post for another day. It’s fine. Healthy baby, healthy mom is the goal, right?