Waiting Game

Recently, I had reason to be in a room full of women who are pregnant with their first child. I gotta say, it didn't help the baby fever. At all.

Before having Luke, I was convinced that the second time around, it would be easy to be patient and wait for the right time because, after all, I'd have a small person around to distract me. And yes, he certainly does distract me. But now, I know.

I know the thrill of a positive pregnancy test, hearing the baby's heartbeat, feeling the first kicks, seeing the ultrasounds, meeting a brand new person, holding and rocking and feeding that new person for days and weeks and months. I know the craziness of waking up (multiple times) every night for sixteen months, the fear of holding a feverish baby at 3 in the morning, the frustration with a toddler who won't let you feed him his applesauce, but can't work the spoon well enough to feed himself yet. I know the absolute awesome-ness of watching this small person turn from a sleepy, blobby creature into an actual, you know, person. So, no. It is not easier to wait for the right time.

(Now is not the right time.)