I thought for a hot second about a year ago that I might want another baby. I even weighed the pros and cons on Baby Fever: Should we have a third child?.
Then life got really busy and I swore off babies forever. “Whew!” I thought, “Thank goodness we didn’t go for a third!” I even wrote about the fact that babies didn’t make me swoon anymore. My, how things can change. And quickly.
Over the last week, something inside me shifted. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m turning 36 this year, maybe it’s the whole mom-sad thing. Hell, maybe it’s the lethal cuteness cocktail of Pinterest and Etsy. Whatever it is, it hit me hard. Like Mack Truck hard.
See, I love babies, especially babies that belong to other people. I love cradling them, inhaling the youthful smell of their sweet heads like some sort of intoxicating Fountain of Youth. I even love pretending they’re mine…until they cry. Then I politely give them back and thank my lucky stars I get to sleep tonight.
I already have two beautiful boys nearly 5 years apart. What the hell am I thinking wanting to start all over again? Do I really want to spread out this motherhood thing for all of eternity? Best case scenario I have a baby in the next year, then I’d have an infant, a 5 year old and a 10 year old. Am I up for that?
I don’t know if I am. Something in my gut is telling me yes, while my head is telling me, “Hell-to-the-no you crazy, crazy, CRAZY woman!”
Having a third really would be starting over in a very big way. I’ve given away the baby stuff and maternity clothes. I forgot all about what to expect when I’m expecting. I like to drink wine and eat soft cheese at every possible opportunity. I just dropped a fair amount of weight on Weight Watchers. My house houses four comfortably. Why is this a good idea again? Oh yeah, because my heart wants it. Stupid heart.
For now, I sit and wait for the fever to pass…and not because time is on my side, because it isn’t.
Halp! Will the baby fever pass?
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