My final pregnancy was a dream (in more ways than one). At the old age of 38, it was my easiest. But also, I was running after two kids all day and had no time to think of myself. By 2016, we were living on Long Island and 20 minutes from the hospital. Since later kids often come fast, I was terrified I’d give birth on the side of the road. Therefore, with every cramp we rushed to the hospital. Eventually, my water broke. My husband drove like Pole Position, threw the keys to the valet like in a movie, and we went inside. We made it in time! Everyone applauded as they brought me in. I watched (for the first time!) my calm little boy emerge easily and peacefully via a vaginal birth into this world. They put this little miracle on my chest, and we all fell asleep. It was incredible. Two days later we went home and my life as a mom of three started. It was insane as one kid needed to go to kindergarten, another to nursery school, and my husband was in the city working. Worried that ...