Pregnancy is an exciting and wonderful time. It is also a time full of apprehension and fears; it is a time when our focus is on our growing child and all the responsibility that comes along with that life. Our first child is a rite of passage which teaches us who we truly are and what is really important to us. We make mistakes as we learn along the way. Each baby
we bring into the world is given the benefit of the teachings her siblings shared. As the birth of my second child grows closer I am able to have greater clarity as to the life I want her to have, as well as growing anxiety about my ability to be the mother I want be to her.

Being in the third trimester with a two year old boy running around is one of the most joyous times of life, as well as the most overwhelming. This beaming face looks at me with excitement about his new harmonica -- which surprisingly he can not only play, but pronounce. He kisses my belly and says hello to his sister. She is active, which my doctors
understand as healthy, but to me translates as sleep deprivation and sore ribs. I am constantly in awe of these two little lives: they are able to light a fire inside me and grate my nerves at the same time.

It is amazing how such an innocent and sweet little boy can be such a practice in patience. I am constantly reminded that the reason he never listens to me is because I'm 'Mommy' and that means I am the safe person to test limits with. Sometimes, though, I just wish he could understand that I'm tired and uncomfortable. I can be on the verge of tears over nothing, and he thinks that is a good time to laugh as he does the opposite of what I just asked. I wonder: am I really capable of what I've signed up for? Sometimes one child is overwhelming. Can I really take care of two? My husband assures me that a two year old and a newborn is easier than potty training while pregnant. But I fear he's just telling me that to make me feel better.

Surprisingly, labor is one of the smaller things on my mind. From what I've read, it is often a great fear. I faced my son's birth with confidence and that worked well. I was able to have a nearly natural birth with no real complications. I do have some trepidation about her size: my son was a good size (7lb 8oz, 21 inches) and I'm convinced she's bigger. But I find that the less I think about that the better I feel. What I'm more interested in focusing on is how to raise two confident, secure, well-rounded children. I was intimidated by just the one, even though so far he seems to be coming out okay.

So as I transition my thinking from being based on one child to raising children I am constantly growing. The patience-testing my boy is doing is a learning experience. He is helping me be a better mother not only to him, but for his sister as well. I remind myself that each time I fall into pieces about not getting dinner quite right is an opportunity to put myself back together, a little bit more strongly each time. I am learning what every mother needs to learn: to trust myself. My husband is able to acknowledge that mothers shouldn't be questioned; sometimes a mother just knows. Luckily, that confidence is contagious.

As the birth nears and I lean on my husband more and more, we become a better parenting team. I am breaking out of the trap of selflessness early. When I need a break, I take it. My son gets a better mother as I learn more about myself and my family. I know I am lucky to have everything work so smoothly, but I'm convinced that I'm even luckier to have the perspective I do. The ability to be flexible and open to each new experience has allowed me to learn and grow where I could have easily broken. I am confident that my children will be the beneficiariesComputer Technology Articles, growing and learning in a home so full of peace and love where apprehension and anxiety could easily have lived. Or maybe I just benefit from having wonderful children. We do grow together.