I’ve got baby fever.You’re pregnant… I’m probably going to stare at you. You have a baby… my insides are secretly (or not so secretly) screaming to snuggle that little bundle of love, for hours. You want to talk cloth diapers… I’m your girl. Pay no mind to the fact that I don’t have a child, am not pregnant and don’t have plans to get knocked up anytime soon. Say hello to my upcoming wedding anniversary (1 year) in October. That anniversary means we’ve still got plenty of that honeymooning, lovey dovey, sugar pumpkin pants to get out before we start talking placentas and baby names. Right?I guess this is what they mean when they talk about your “internal clock” starting to tick. People, I just turned 26 — I figured I had at least another good five years before I longingly started perusing the baby section in target and talking myself out of buying the baby swing on the clearance rack… because, you know, someday. If you’ll take a moment to get nostalgic with me… there was this post about the horrors of babyness. The screwed up lady bits, mucus plugs and other disgusting and painful things I was in no rush to figure out. Well, hello hormones… you rule every other part of my life, why not add in severe baby cravings and a curiosity about breast pumps.I’m hoping it’s a phase, because it’s hard to focus on the gloriousness of sleeping in, leaving the house when I want, going to Disney World, drinking wine and eating sushi with my uterus going to battle for poopy diapers and sleepless nights.
Until the day dawns that I’m ready to commit to bringing a life into this world (which is not today or any day in the very near future), I’ll just standby encouraging my sister (cough, to get on it) and friends to work on going easy with their birth control.
P.S. On a side note I’ve re-committed myself to not getting knocked up in any months that would result in having Children during the months of July, August or September. No more August Babies – and if you’re my friend, or have any of God’s good sense you’ll give it some thought avoid those months as well.
P.P.S. Shortly after I posted this, originally, my sister announced she’s pregnant. How’s that for luck. Hello wonderful world of babyness without the awful world of poopy diaperness.