You know that feeling of excitement that completely overtook you as a child the night before Christmas? It was a feeling of magic mixed with anticipation and faith, and the night seemed to never end. And then, when it was finally time to rush into the family room and tear open the presents, you knew you were in heaven. A day of sweet joy was sure to follow the hoards of candy and piles of gifts and endless sounds of laughter from you and your family.
That wonderful feeling is something I have felt on many different occasions in my life. One of those just-like-Christmas-morning experiences is pregnancy (and no, I'm not pregnant, so don't get any ideas). I love taking pregnancy tests.I've had four children, and I still buy the tests...just to see. It drives my husband crazy, but I love
the anticipation of it. I love having a baby grow inside of me. It's that same feeling of just-before-Christmas magic, wondering at first if it's a boy or girl, and then wondering what they'll look like. I love the feeling of being in labor. No, I'm not crazy, and yes, it hurts in a wonderful agonizing sort of way (but don't ask me if I like it during labor!). But the best part of it all is knowing that the time has come. I love driving to the hospital and riding up the elevator, and getting admitted. I hate the waiting part, because my labors are always unnaturally long, and I swear that my baby will never be born, but I love the fact that behind the closet doors in the labor and delivery room is a little glass bassinet, soon to hold my little one.
Then, after hours of waiting, it's time for the epidural. These are sort of like the class bully telling you there's no such thing as Santa Claus, and laughing at you for believing, but once it's over and you're pushing and then the doctor shouts out that he sees the head, and one push later, your baby is crying, you know that you are in heaven, and that magic still exists. I love holding the baby that I carried for nine months, feeling him push and kick and strain my muscles and pinch my nerves, because he's mine, all mine.
I love their sweet little bodies, all shriveled and dry, their microscopic fingers and toes that are so perfect, and their bright, beautiful eyes as they look into my face. I love their warm body, snuggled so calmly against mine, and that beautiful little cry, because it's their voice, the voice I've waited to hear for nearly a year. I love the little fingers wrapping around my own, the hair that I'm so proud of for reasons I'll never quite understand, and the way they smell. I love little babies, even though they keep me up at night and make me grouchy the next day.
I love the fact that I have added another member to my family, a child that I can learn to know, teach, guide, laugh with, cry with, and be a mommy to. I love being a mom. Yes, it's extremely hard, tiring, frustrating, and at times can be so lonely for reasons I just don't quite understand. But I have the love of four little boys who look up to me for guidance and assurance. I love being surrounded by love. Maybe this is why I'm so baby hungry. I love love!