Another Postscript

 I really don't want to commit myself to blogging again. But sometimes I want to express something that I don't necessarily want all of my social media connections to be able to access.

What I want to express is that I miss being pregnant.

I will never experience pregnancy again unless something really insane and/or medically impossible happens. (Okay, how about extremely medically improbable?) We are 100% done having babies. We are 100% so done. We are 100% happy with our rambunctious boys and do not want to have anymore. Just the thought of going through the newborn phase again is exhausting.

But. 

There is this teeny tiny, barely perceptible jingle bell that rings in the recesses of my mind when I hear that such and such is expecting or I see a pregnant woman or see an infant. There are times that I find myself daydreaming about what it felt like, trying to remember the wonder of little baby kicks on the inside that felt like a miracle every single time. 

I am very thankful that I was able to bear children and that I was able to have relatively uncomplicated pregnancies. I truly am. When it comes to pregnancy and childbirth, I learned enough to know that nothing's a guarantee. But at the same time, I do mourn a chapter of my life that is over. 

Maybe it would be different if I were menopausal and knew that my body had closed up shop for good. But right now, I know that the potential is still (technically) there. I did enough research and experienced enough to know what the signs are that I'm ovulating and within my "fertile window." There are times where I feel like, "I could technically still get pregnant" but I know that I never will again. 

I will be honest and say that I have even allowed my mind to go to some really macabre and outlandish places, like, what if (God forbid) something happened to my husband and I met someone else who wanted to have a baby immediately (and at this point in 40ish time, let's be honest, it would have to be immediately)? I DO NOT WANT THIS TO HAPPEN. I'm just saying, my brain thinks of dumb and insane things when the baby jingle bell starts to ring.

Our doula got a video of the moment after I gave birth to our second child and they laid him on me. It's embarrassing to watch, because I was out of my mind. What I mean is that there is this intoxicating, euphoric, relieving, jumbled up flood of emotions in that moment. Everything is incomprehensible and inexplicable. I was moving my head from side to side and making a ton of wailing noises and saying, "Oh, my baby!" Like, it's hilarious and just crazy. In moments like these, you are stripped down (literally) to your most vulnerable, raw self. I will never experience that moment of wild bliss ever again.

I'm not having any more babies. But sometimes I think I want to.