The Green Eyed Monster

I miss being pregnant.  I loved everything about being pregnant...ok almost everything.  I had a rough nine weeks there (week 5-14) where I bled constantly...every single day.  That was awful.  But that's another post for another day!

I miss being pregnant.   I have never felt as sexy or as womanly as I did while I was pregnant.  I felt healthy and truly alive.  I felt like I had found my purpose in life (cliche, but amazingly true).  I loved loved loved my prenatal yoga classes.  As hard as it was to get and stay in downward dog I loved the release and relaxation of my classes.  When I look into the yoga room when I'm at the Center these days I feel such longing and jealousy of those women who get to experience that time in their lives especially if they are first time moms.  I want to vaporize through the wall and be in those moments with them.  I want to know that absolute peace and calm again.

I miss being pregnant.  In that same vein I miss having a newborn.  I certainly don't miss the lack of sleep, but even today I'm sleep deprived as Tate is not a good sleeper. (he has gotten so much better though!!!)  I wish I could go back and get a do-over and do that first month over...doesn't every mom of a singleton wish that?  I want to just revel in the new life I created.  I want to hold Tate, smell him, just feel him in my arms, on my breast.  When I see tiny babies out and about my heart aches to have another or for Tate to just be that age one more time.  I remember people everywhere oohing and aahing over Tate at 2 weeks or 5 weeks or any of those other early weeks and telling me how fast it goes by.  Why do we never listen?  And here I am with my 67 weeker who people still ooh and aah over, but it's so not the same.  That nostalgic look of hope is no longer on faces of most people who see toddlers.

I miss being pregnant.  I want another baby, and I'm so jealous of those who can have two or three or four.  Though I don't think I could handle more than 2 single, married or other.  I want to hold a just born babe who cuddles up with those legs as he was in the womb.  I want that warm, downy skin next to mine.  I want Tate to have a sibling.     Spiritually and emotionally I'm dying for another baby and know I could so do it.  Physically, not so much...I'm 43.  My little eggs are probably not in the best shape.  I'm tired and drained by this time of night.  I don't know if I could do the every 2 1/2 - 3 hours ever again for nights, weeks and months on end.  Financially, I cannot see how I could do it.  Between the college, retirement, savings, fun/splurge money investments it's not possible.  But I want to be pregnant.

I miss being pregnant.  I see pregnant women and I'm jealous.  I want to be them.  I see newborns and I want to have one.  I want them to be mine.  I want that feeling of utter awe at the gift of life.

I miss being pregnant.  God blessed me with my wish to carry my own child.  How can I ask for more.  I felt every single kick, somersault and roll of Tate in my belly.  It was always him and I alone in the middle of the night when he started many a party.   Laying on my back watching my belly roll was extraordinary.  Seeing him move took my breath away. 

But you know what...he still takes my breath away.  Tonight when I came home he leaped into my arms with his big toothy grin.  I love his little tushy when he walks.  I love how he still cuddles up to me in the middle of the night..he still curls those legs up right beside me.  There is no place he would rather be than in my arms.  His little body is still warm with my love.  I ooh and aah over him all the time.   I get to see him somersault and turn and jump up and down in person now!  He is still all possibilities and hope. 

I miss being pregnant.  But I'm so glad I'm not missing out on the love that is Tate.