Our friends had their first baby this morning, a baby boy named Jack. I was sure that when I went to visit that I would be struck with the baby-fever and want to go home and ravage my husband and plant some babies in my dear old friend, Miss Uterus. I went to visit, and he is a total doll. Sacha tried to feed him a cookie and steal his blanket, but that's another tale.
I am, however, still not sure about the next baby. How could that be? Don't I love babies? Well, yes. In theory. In practice, there are some points to consider when preparing to go about knocking myself up again.
1. Lack of sleep. I know, I know. I expected to have some difficulty in the sleep department for the first few months, nursing all night, yadda yadda. But at 10 months?!?! Sacha still wakes up numerous times during the night. He is not a steady sleeper, and I can never predict whether it will be a
- good night - wakes up 2 times or less
- moderate night - more than two awakenings
- bad night - many awakenings and a covert pooperation in the mix
- fucking awful night - is awake more then asleep and my dear husband hears none of it
This is NOT the norm, right? And yes, I will most likely have a wonderful sleeper the next times around. But what if I don't? I'll get up to nurse baby #2 and S will wake up and want me to read to him. Or later, S will wake up, wake his little sibling up, and have a midnight diaper swap and poop party. I may never sleep again. It makes my uterus cringe in fear.
2. I just bought a car, and I know that those damn double strollers will not fit in a car. And I am not giving up my car! I do not want a fucking minivan right now just so I can put a damn double stroller in it!
3. I like my body again. It's sexy (other than the saggy milk bags) and can make heads turn in a good way. Not so sure if I want to pack on another 44 lbs and have my breasts inflate like dingys.
4. I like the ME TIME I have now that S goes to bed at 7. This gives me 3 or 4 hours of time to do as I please, watch a non Treehouse channel and listen to music with as many fucking swears as I fucking want.
5. I can have caffeine again. The first 6 months of nursing, I couldn't have the slightest bit of caffeine as it sent S into a tizzy and he became Mr Cranky McFussalot. This exasperated #1.
6. Same can be said of onions, which I use prolifically in all my cooking. I remember having to eat macaroni and cheese for a week in the early days so as not to set his little stomach off into pukes-ville. Other off limits foods were cabbage, asparagus, anything spicy, anything tasty.
7. Now that my dear friend Mr. Advil and I have become reacquainted, I don't know if I am ready to part ways.
8. Same can be said for my other friend, Ms Chocolate Martini.
9. I like keeping my food down, and I would rather not have it revisit my palate every morning for 4 months while the little parasite screws around with my hormones.
Now, I know that there are some pluses to being pregnant and having another baby:
1. Having a good excuse to not put out.
2. Having more credibility as a whiny, stressed out mother.
After that, I've got nothing. Care to add to my list?