Much patience.  A speedy metabolism.  1 million dollars in the bank.

Baby Fever.

Two years ago, my ovaries practically leaped out of my body & attacked me every time I saw a child under the age of one.  I researched cribs & strollers with never-ending zest.  I craved babies to the point that I was afraid I’d start licking them in public elevators.

About two months ago, I convinced myself that I was pregnant.  That somehow, I was the 1% who’s birth control failed on top of the condom having a microscopic hole in it.  Because that would be my luck.  & it terrified me.

-I worried about a relapse into depression, of course.

-I got super-pissed that I was starting off another pregnancy with the scale not being my friend.

-Especially when I had just picked up a new fitness hobby because gahhhhhhhhhhh wouldn’t that just figure that I’d get in shape & BAM! get pregnant?

-I fretted over finances.  NO WAY could we afford two in childcare.  NO WAY can we afford me to stay home.

-I physically cringed when I thought back to waking every two hours to wails & fussy dirty diapers.

Mostly, I felt heartbroken over Harrison.  He just got his Momma back in full.  How could I strip him of me yet again?  He lost so much of the first year & my whole existence is currently wrapped around learning him.  How could I tear that with a pregnancy & new baby?  He deserves me & all of me for at least a little precious time in his life.

Not that I don’t remember how sweet the top of his head smelled.  Or what it felt like to wrap that hot bundle in the Moby.  & I completely remember those mornings when the sunlight streamed in over the soft sounds of his lamb swing.

oh my, how I do remember.

But I also remember the tears.  The insistent crying.  The sleepless days & nights.  The soreness every time I sat down.  The constant dribble of formula down my shoulder.

& it fills me with dread.

& so for the first time in my life I took a pregnancy test & spent the entire 3-5 minutes praying a second blue line would not show up.  I chewed my fingernails down to the quicks.  I paced the tile.  I felt like throwing up, but I didn’t want to give my body any ideas about pregnancy & morning sickness.  I imagined seeing a second line appear & it felt like a lid on my coffin.

& that’s not the way I want any pregnancy of mine to feel.  Quite simply put, I am not ready for another.

I’m thrilled to be an auntie to the triplets & Cora & Lala’s new babe.  I have a stack of diapers & boy clothes to drop off at Lindsey’s house in excitement for her soon-to-be-here son.  Every time one of my blogging friends posts a picture of a positive test, my heart leaps for joy.  For them.  & partly with the grace & understanding that it’s not me.

Nate & I both breathed a deep sigh of relief at the negative test.

I’m content with that.

Because sometimes when Harry is overwhelmed by Christmas & he burries his puppy-dog clad nose into my shoulder, it feels like I still have a baby.