No... Yes... NO... YES... *sigh*
I have a horrible case of baby fever. I know that I won't have any more kids, but I swear my ovaries quiver every time a friend shows off their newest baby dressed like a Lima bean or a sock monkey for Halloween.
Just passing the layette section in Target makes me all wistful. I've played the "What would BLT and my baby look like?" game in my head. I ask myself, what would it be like to have the father if my newborn actually want to hold their child, or bathe their baby...or just be there in the delivery room and not be a useless sack of distraction?
It doesn't help that a friend just announced she's pregnant. I thought my social group had passed the age of baby showers and birth stories, but here two of my friends are expecting and another two have children under the age if one.
Inside my head I hear a voice say; "See I'm not too old. 37 year olds have babies all the time!"
Then I hear; "Jackass, you're not married, you're broke, you have 5 kids between the two of you to raise, you're broke, you have a psychotic ex husband trying to take your kids, you work 50+ hours a week to support yourself, you are too old, and did I mention....YOU ARE BROKE!"
So I accept all over again that my baby days are done. No more tiny fingers wrapped around my pinky, no more nursing baby at my breast, no more tiny cloth diapers.
Then some excited friend shows off their newest set of Little Timmy Learned To Eat His Toes photos... I swear to god I'm going to have to close down my Facebook account until this passes.