Family of three.

There's an age-old question mothers ask themselves (and everyone else) when preparing to welcome a second child:

How could I ever possibly love another baby as much as I love my first?

I'm smart enough to know there's nothing to worry about. Plenty of people have told me so and I've seen it with my own eyes. My love will not be divided, but multiplied. There will be plenty of love to go around. I will love them both equally, if differently.

But knowing and understanding are two different things. My head knows these words are truth, but my heart...oh, my heart. It doesn't quite believe this is possible. And it's a little scared of what's to come, of losing something in the transition from mother of one to mother of two.

Nate and I spent all day Saturday with Calvin. We planned an entire day together, just us three, doing things we thought he would love. Chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream for breakfast, a morning at Sea Life and Nickelodeon Universe, an evening of movies and popcorn and pizza camped out in a living room tent. A day filled with special treats, one after the other, so Calvin would know just how much we love him, how proud we are of the wonderful big brother he is certain to be, and how much we treasure our time with him.

I know Calvin won't remember this day. And he won't remember life without his sister. But Nate and I will. Our day together was as much about us as it was him, about capturing this brief moment in time when we existed as a family of three.

As with every aspect of motherhood, you can't really know anything until you've been through it. So I anxiously await the day when I will cradle my baby girl in one arm, hug my little boy with the other, and go from knowing to understanding just how much love my heart can hold.

If what I feel for my firstborn is any indication, there will be more than enough for everyone.