As you probably are already aware, I have been thinking about having another child for quite some time. I have been toying with dreams of a nursery in this house, and picturing heartwarming moments with the man over a bassinet at three in the morning.
I keep seeing the Kid playing, alone and getting this weird tugging in my heart that says to me, she’s not meant to be an only child, something is wrong here.
More than that, I miss it.
I have been missing the soft velvety feel of baby skin against my cheek. I have caught myself rocking the Kid’s baby dolls when she hands them over for me to babysit. I miss the feel of a little person in my arms, and that’s, frankly, a little weird, since I was never all that into the baby thing to begin with. I mean, I love them, but, you know how some people are baby people? I’m just not. Don’t hand me your kid at a party, I don’t want to hold it. My own kids, sure, I mean, I kind of have to, and we had our sentimental moments, but for the most part, I was thrilled when they started walking and talking and (theoretically) wiping their own asses. Nevertheless, the baby desire in me right now is strong. I catch myself wanting to touch the cheeks of infants I pass in the grocery store like some creepy weirdo. I find myself redecorating this room over and over and over again in my mind. I find myself not even caring if I have a girl or a boy, not even caring if its biologically mine, just give me a baby.
Maybe I am finally, actually ready for one.
And now I don’t know if I can even have one. Part of me is convinced that is the reasoning behind the wanting, I mean, tell a girl she can’t have something and its the first thing that comes to mind, right?
When I start to think about the mechanics of the thing, though, I freak out a bit. Besides The Sick, well, two out of three of my pregnancies were pretty full of life threatening stuff and bedrestishness. And during the relatively good pregnancy, I fainted at work and hit my head on the safe, waking up to the paramedics and strict orders not to come back until after the baby had been born.
So, I’m wary and scared for a million reasons. I have been trying to research pregnancy and chronic pancreatitis, with pretty unhelpful results. All I know for sure is that I would have to go off of most of my medication.
If it is just a matter of me suffering through it for nine months, then I’m sure I can find a way to deal with the pain, but if my condition is going to risk the baby, then I… can’t. And so far, I have not been able to find a straight answer either way. So it’s on hold. Probably until I become too sick for it to even be an option.
But the wanting is still there.
So pardon me if I inappropriately stroke your child while in line at the checkout counter. I’m really not a creepy old lady, promise.