I can't believe I'm writing this, but it is the truth. I've got baby fever. I want another one. Like now.
For those of you who don't know me personally, I'll fill you in on a little back history. Back when Grace was in the ol' womb, I was a hot mess. For me, those nine months were a mix of magic and mayhem. It seemed that with each magical pregnancy milestone , I got further in touch with my inner demon. When I wasn't starving, uncomfortable, or weeping, I was typically making any number of my loved ones miserable.
As a lifetime hypochondriac and OCD extraordinaire, nine months felt like an eternity. When I wasn't terrified of getting listeria from Subway or checking for a fetal heartbeat @ 4am, I was neurotically assisting in the planning of my baby shower (sorry Mom and Amanda). Towards the end of my second trimester, I was informed that I'd only gained 11lbs. to date. That appointment gave way to the deep and disgusting spiral into a full blown McChicken addiction. I couldn't get enough of these processed chicken sandwiches. My total weight gain at the end of my 40th week was just under 60lbs. I was quite literally super sized.
I was due on Friday, August 13 and went ten days post date. Labor was a nightmare and the kid took just under 5 hours to push out. It seemed like everything that could go wrong, was really trying to. After 27 hours, G joined us and filled us with more joy that we could have ever asked for.
Grace was a great baby and only really had a couple of bad weeks. I remember thinking that I couldn't wait until Grace could eat 'people' food and sleep the night; when Grace became a little more independent, the fun would really begin. Now I look back to those cuddly days and can literally smell the Enfamil. I long for baby urp and snuggles. And nothing compares to that baby smell.
Grace sleeps the night now and really gives back. She's always waiting at the door for us, ready to dish out hugs and kisses. I realized today when someone asked me how old my baby was, that I didn't really have a baby anymore. Grace is a kid. She likes bananas, hates bread, sometimes says shit, and loves Yo Gabba Gabba. She'll play for hours in the yard and will dance her butt off to anything with a little rhythm. She is definitely not a baby.
I hesitate to say that I'm ready to go back and start again, but I think I might be getting close. A few more things need to happen before I feel like baby #2 can join the party, but I think we both know Grace needs a playmate in the next few years. In the meantime, I need some of my friends (and sisters!) to pop out a few so I can steal snuggles til' it's our time again! :)