No, this is not a post announcing that I am pregnant.  If I were, I would be very rich from the lawsuit money and everyone would get really nice Christmas gifts.

No, no – this is about the yearning for certain things that come with another baby, prompted by the birth of a baby girl and baby boy of friends today (CONGRATS GUYS and CHERISH IT).

For instance, I would like my husband to do the heavy lifting.  When I was pregnant, he carried the children to bed, the garbage to the can, and fed the dogs lest it be too hard for me to bend down.  Now, after kids, we’ll say…  I take the trash out at least once a day, feed the dogs nightly no matter what, and carry the kids everywhere, often two at a time.

I would like to have three happily peaceful days – I had c sections – just drinking in my child.  Analyzing her nose, hands, shape of her toes.  Staring at her for hours as she sleeps.  Startling every time I think she might not be breathing.  Checking her diaper 40 times an hour for the all important first poop indicating she’s working properly.  Now I try to spend a few seconds with each one of them and often get interrupted by another.  I feel I am losing my soaking it in time and won’t get it back.  Thank God for photos and video!

I would like to sleep when I want.  Granted, with Katie it was never at night, and that remains true to this day, but with Sarah and Megan, they would sleep and sleep.  And so could I.  Whenever I wanted.  I could curl up on the massively uncomfortable hospital bed and doze at will.  No guilt about laying around and being lazy, no one to clean up after or demand food, milk, TV, or help going potty.  It was expected, actually.  Encouraged.  Prayed for with my hormones!

I would  be nice to have someone cook me a meal (no this is not a hint to friends!).  Even hospital food tastes good when a quiet, cafeteria worker delivers it luke-warm and over cooked on a plastic tray that is missing any silver wear.  It’s really OK.  Because, these days, while cooking dinner, I usually burn something, forget an ingredient or cook something too early thinking my husband is on his way home, only to have him arrive an hour after he said.  So it is dry and hard to eat.  Not unlike hospital food.

I yearn for the new mom glow instead of the overworked mom sweat.  The long, nutrient enriched nails as opposed to the short, cracked,  stubby ones. I would like my lack of a hairstyle to be understood instead of judged and it be cute to have stains on my clothing again.

I miss people saying it is OK to eat and eat because I am growing a baby, eating for two, and I’ll never get to do it again!  Now I get the looks.  The haven’t you had enough, are you going to eat all of that, I thought you were trying to lose weight looks.  I want the reason I outgrow my pants to be that the baby is growing, not that my ass is.

I want people to visit again.  Offer help (again, not for friends).  Tell me to sit down.  Care for me.  I miss people.  Now I have it ‘handled’ and they have returned to their own overworked, stressed out, time consuming lives.  Not meaning to have disappeared, intending to come by every week, but just like me, can never find the time.

Oh, and I want periods to go away again.  Seriously.

I love my life.  I love my kids.  I love my husband.  I love that I made the decision to be done.  I love that I stay home and get to care for those that God has created for me.  However, I would not be terribly devastated if I found out I were pregnant tomorrow.

Flabbergasted, but not devastated.

Because with every baby comes a chance to be pampered, as every new mother should be!

Congratulations Courtney and Vicki!  Bask in it!  You deserve it!!!