I kind of miss being pregnant. I realize this statement makes me slightly insane given how much I whined at the end of my pregnancy. But two months into this whole motherhood thing, I feel the need to do it all over again, extra pounds, stretch marks and all. It is not that I have forgotten how miserable I was sharing my body, it's more that I never realized just how much it would all be worth it. There is not a second of the past 2.5 months I would trade for Carmen Electra's fat free body or Steve Prefontaine's running times. I spent the whole first month saying I had no idea why people went for a second kid. I will spend the next nine months wishing my period would return so I can get started on #2.
It did not hit me until the other day. R, Samara and I went to dinner at a friend's house. She is currently 8.5 months pregnant. Seeing her belly and knowing all that she has to look forward made me wistful. I wanted to do it all over again. Then the other day I took a pregnancy test (long story). When it came back negative, I was sad. Delusional? Maybe. But I was actually disappointed and honestly, I think R was a little, too. It's not at all practical to think of having a second right now (of course, it was not really practical to have the first now either given her father is in his last year of his PhD and we will be in a very different place financially in a couple years). But practicality aside, Sasha want more. I want 10 babies. I want a football team. Had I known how happy I would be, I would have had triplets!
To be fair to Samara, I would like to wait at least two years (if I can). Then again, my sister and I were 8.5 years apart and I don't think either of us were pleased with that. When I played Barbies as a kid (until I was 17 mind you), they always came from huge families, full of kids and drama and fun. I was always so envious of my neighbors' house where there were three kids all close in age. I used to beg my parents for a sibling constantly (my father tells me to this day that without my nagging, M might not exist). On the other hand, I think it is important for Samara to have our exclusive attention for a while. I want our breastfeeding relationship to end naturally, not because I am pregnant again and have to stop. Plus, there are practical considerations. We live in a 3 bedroom condo with liberal use of the word "bedroom." In fact, Samara's room is actually the room we were contemplating turning into a walk-in closet prior to finding out we were pregnant. We also need another car before we go for #2. One car seat barely fits in our tiny two-door. Two would be impossible. So, we will wait. But the days of whining about never having another have ended. Now I can't wait to see what is behind door # 2.