There are certain seasons of motherhood that are difficult to describe until you’re on the other side of them. For me, going from three children to four was one of those seasons.
We welcomed four children in under six years. Every family looks different—some have four children spread across ten or fifteen years, while others, like us, have several little ones all at once. I don’t think one way is better than another. We all simply play the hand we’re dealt.
This is the only version of motherhood I know, and after nearly two years, I finally feel like I can look back and put words to what this transition has been like. Spoiler alert: it took longer than I expected.
The Slow Burn 🔥
When people found out we were expecting our fourth baby, I heard the same thing over and over: “If you can handle three, four is easy.” That wasn’t my experience, at least not anytime soon.
Going from one child to two felt like getting hit by a car—hard, fast, and completely life-altering. Going from three to four felt different. It wasn’t quite as shocking, but it was a slow burn. Caring for a newborn wasn’t the difficult part anymore. By baby number four, feeding, diaper changes, and sleepless nights felt familiar. The challenge was caring for three other children while also caring for a newborn. That’s a very full plate.
Listen Here 🎧
Death by a Thousand Tiny Interruptions 🧸
Most days felt like one long string of interruptions. Nursing the baby. Brushing someone’s hair. Helping another child in the bathroom. Refilling sippy cups. Changing diapers. Packing lunches. Meal prepping. Doing laundry. Tidying up. Applying band-aids. Grabbing ice packs. Nursing again.
It wasn’t one overwhelming moment—it was hundreds of little moments stacked on top of one another. By bedtime, I often felt like I had worked an entire day without ever finishing a meaningful single task.
It Took Longer to Find Our Rhythm 🌿
One thing I’ve been reflecting on is how long each transition took. When we went from one child to two, I remember feeling like life settled down around six months, and by a year we had found our rhythm. Going from two to three felt surprisingly smooth. But going from three to four? That took nearly two years before I could honestly say, “I think we’ve arrived.” Right now, two years in, I can say that we’ve reached our new normal.
It’s Not the Baby 💛
Ironically, our fourth baby has been our easiest. She is calm, patient, independent, and incredibly easygoing. She isn’t the hard part, the hard part is simply that there are six of us now. More schedules. More laundry. More dishes to wash. More shoes to replace. More school calendars. More meals to make. More birthdays to plan. More tiny details to remember. Sometimes it felt like I simply ran out of bandwidth.
Holding Two Truths at Once 🤍
Lately, I’ve realized I can hold two truths at the same time. I’m tired of diapers. I’m excited for the independence that’s coming. And yet, I don’t want to wish this season away. The present is all we have. After nearly eight consecutive years of having either a newborn, infant, or toddler in our home, I can almost taste the freedom that’s coming. This summer I’ve noticed little glimpses of it already—leaving the stroller behind, carrying just one tote bag instead of an overflowing diaper bag, watching everyone walk beside me instead of needing to be carried. Those little milestones feel huge.
Are We There Yet? ✨
These days, our family feels… settled. The kids genuinely enjoy each other. Any combination of siblings seems to work. I love the dynamic of our family of six, and I feel so grateful that God entrusted us with two boys and two girls. The transition from three to four stretched me in ways I never expected. It also reminded me that some seasons don’t end when the baby turns one. Sometimes it takes much longer to catch your breath. If you’re in that season right now—feeling like you’re constantly treading water—I hope this encourages you. One day you’ll look around and realize you’re no longer surviving. You’re simply living. And somehow, almost without noticing, you’ve found your rhythm again. 🤍