Now that my period is back and my cycle is on its way to regulating there’s been talk of ttc our second child (please let it only be one, after all I am a clomid gal). I want to enjoy this time with Mr. E and not rush into the next baby. As we walk the path back to ttc, that is my marker for readiness. We have (moving) target dates for when we’ll start, and ideas about minimally how far apart we’re comfortable with them being. But one thing that never changes, we’re impulsive, we change our minds every other day, and we’re probably so sleep deprived that we shouldn’t even be permitted to make the decision to have another one. And after my half day with Mr. E and our two nephews (10 months and 3 years), I began to reconsider another one altogether. Taking care of all three is exhausting. Picture this: Mr. E on me in the Ergo, 10 month old J in the stroller, 3 year old J riding his bike. Now, me running after J on his bike, while wearing Mr. E and pushing the stroller. And that’s the scene when the babies are confined. When we’re in the house it’s nuts!

But I digress. We will try for another. And we’ll probably do it sooner rather than later, and most likely sooner than we originally planned. As A said to me last night “why drag out having you home forever. Let’s just have the kids and be done with it.” (Of course she said it lovingly.)

All this talk has propelled me back to my time being pregnant. Somehow it doesn’t seem so bad. But I know it was. I know I was uncomfortable, and everything hurt, and I was emotional, and so on. But now, now, I yearn for the closeness with Mr. E that we shared for 10 months. I remember walking around while pregnant, thinking how amazing it was that he went everywhere with me, and dreading the day that would cease to be true. The other night something moved in my stomach (probably gas) and it felt as it did when Mr. E was in me moving. And I longed to feel that intimacy with him.

I hated being pregnant so I can’t believe I miss anything about it or that I am nostalgic and wanting to do it again. I already know breastfeeding will be the same. I didn’t know if I’d like bfing, and it turns out I am pretty damn good at it and so is he. I can’t say as though I love it, but I don’t hate it, I enjoy the time together, and most of all I am humbled to be so fortunate as to produce food for my child. I have every intention of bfing till he’s one, and then will see what happens. TTC plans may necessitate weaning. No mater what I know I will miss it when we’re done. Just as I somehow now miss being pregnant.