I’ve uttered these words so many times in the past few weeks. About what? Babies. Yep, you heard me. I’m pretty sure that I’ve got baby fever. And I’ve had it for a while now.
In March, at my annual Ob/GYN visit, I had my IUD removed. I had been disliking it for some time and was ready to discuss the possibility of turning our family of three into four. And so I had it removed as well as any thoughts of other contraceptives. I had talked to Zach about it, and while I’m sure he didn’t think I was serious, he agreed the time was now or never.
I’ve never given much thought to my biological clock. I never felt that I needed to, especially since Zach is 8 years older than me. I think I worry more about his clock! But now, on the cusp of thirty (yes, the dirty thirty is fast approaching), I felt compelled to go ahead and give it a try. Making a baby, that is. I remember well when Zach & I first began trying for Sailor. We made a pact of sorts that cut off our childbearing years at my ripe age of thirty. And so here we stand. Sailor just turned two on June 5, and in October I will have reached the pinnacle of my baby making years (although I think we are willing to try through the end of the year).
And so, with our first set of friends to have a baby, and several other little beauties emerging over the past month, I feel this secret pull to get on it. I feel like every fiber within me is screaming for those cells to merge & expand exponentially until a heart beats & fingers and toes splay awaiting the tactile world. I’m ready for one more little wonder to share this ride called life with. And therein lies the confession I’ve been struggling to make for months. So here’s hoping we’ve still got one in us ready to burst forth into this crazy, marvelous world. And hopefully I’ll be sharing it with all of you soon.
With fingers crossed,