I’ve got the fever. The baby fever.

It has gotten so bad that literally everything makes me think about having babies. Like earlier today, I put on a jacket and thought to myself, “I remember when I was pregnant I was too huge to fit in any of my jackets”. And when I went to sushi for lunch, I thought to myself, “I wouldn’t be able to eat this if I was growing a baby”. And when I heard someone say their name at Target, I thought to myself, “how would that name sound with my last name? Could that be the name of our next baby?”

“Our next baby”. Stop it, Carolyn. You’re not even trying to get pregnant. Stop thinking of baby names. And stop fantasizing longingly about the weirdness of pregnancy. And stop staring at your son and wondering what he’d be like as a big brother. And stop calculating when the baby would come if you got pregnant right now. Just stop.

Kyle is going to duct tape my mouth shut pretty soon if I don’t shut up about babies. It’s just that… our original plan for baby-spacing would have put us getting pregnant sometime in the next few months. But due to finances, we decided that we’d have to wait longer than that. But my body doesn’t pay attention to our budget. My body has a mind of its own.

I mean… technically we would be fine financially if a baby popped out 9 months from now. But we’d be better if we wait. Kyle is the voice of reason, which is good. Because there is nothing reasonable about the primal longing I’m experiencing. And the worst part is that every time I snuggle with Lewis, that primal longing gets worse. He feeds the beast with his adorable snuggliness!