Baby Fever

"Hello?" I called out cautiously before entering the hospital room.

"Come in!" came the familiar, cheerful reply.

Stepping into the maternity suite in the same hospital where I delivered Lincoln brought back so many feelings and emotions. Just about a year ago, I was the one laying on that bed with no idea of what to expect, wild-eyed and sleep deprived, forever changed without fully understanding how. 

This time, it was my dear friend who had just  delivered her third child. She was a vet and it showed. She was a natural beauty relaxing in her comfy pajamas in the sofa by the window. The day I delivered Lincoln, I distinctly remember leaving the bed only to begrudgingly pee. She, however, appeared totally comfortable and moved about the room effortlessly, completely unfazed by her daughter's adorable whimpers. Even her husband was proudly dressed in a pink polo to welcome his new baby girl into the world. I smiled to myself.

Next time I'll be so much more prepared.

As soon as I saw her sweet baby girl sleeping on her boppy, I immediately wanted to hold her. She was TINY, and boy was she was cute! Cuddling her little frame, I tried to think back to a time when Lincoln was that small, but no memories came to mind. Instead, he stared at me curiously from his stroller.

"See the baby?" I asked him. "This is a baby! You were a baby too."

Holding that precious child, so new and awesome smelling, I got that itch. You know - the one God gives mothers to convince us to go through all the trouble all over again.

I wanted another one.

I've always wanted another one, but to be perfectly honest, I have no idea how I'll find the time to do any more than I'm doing right now. My house is a mess most days. Our pile of laundry looks more like a small mountain. And I can't remember the last time I cooked a homemade meal for anyone other than Lincoln. This is the new normal.

And yet holding that darling baby, I had the strongest desire for another little one all my own. Admittedly, I struggle a lot with the timing. I just went back to work three months ago. Now, Lord? Really? Can I really work with two kids? What would I do with myself when I get bored? Shouldn't we build up our savings first?

I have more questions than answers.

Back in the hospital room, Lincoln was out of his stroller and tearing up everything he could get his hands on. I gently handed the baby back to her mother and admired from a distance while I chased after Lincoln.

"You're already tired," a coworker told me at work today. "So what's one more?"

Maybe she's right. Maybe it's not as big a deal as I'm making it out to be. Oh Lord, please help me to know when the time is right.

Me Day

"So how are you doing?" my boss asked me yesterday in a regularly scheduled check-in meeting.

I smiled.

"Well, things have been pretty hectic lately," I replied cautiously (an understatement if ever there was one.) Since starting my new job three months ago, we've been back and forth to the Emergency Room, Kinder Mender, the pediatrician and my primary care doctor at least a dozen times.

There was the time the pediatrician thought Lincoln might be having seizures, the time I had throat pain for two whole months and they didn't know what was wrong, the time we saw the neurologist at Johns Hopkins to make sure Lincoln didn't have seizures (thank you, Jesus!) and most recently, the time he was diagnosed with croup. 

As if that weren't enough, I'm still adjusting to working again. After the birth of my first son, Lincoln, I was home for an entire year. In fact, I was just settling into the rhythm of diaper changes, laundry, household chores and weeknight cooking when that familiar restlessness hit me hard. Three months later I was working. Lincoln wasn't even weaned.

Without warning, I was ushered into the world of working moms, and found myself navigating new challenges like:

• Waking up at 5:30a after only four or five hours of "uninterrupted" sleep 
• Balancing a purse, diaper bag, laptop bag and 25-pound baby in two arms that haven't seen the gym in years
• Finding the only position that doesn't make my back doesn't ache during the hour-plus car ride commute to work (each way, folks)
• Keeping Lincoln awake on the ride home with everything from snacks to a full-out sing along
• Managing to make something (anything) edible for dinner
• Not passing out after 9:30p so I can prep for the next day

I hate to sound like I'm complaining, because I'm not. I asked for this, but that doesn't make it any less challenging. Thankfully, God's faithfulness has been with me through it all. And thankfully, I'm not alone. My husband is my best friend and my teammate. Many nights, we collapse in bed next to each other, saying nothing but understanding everything. 

I'm tired, and I've accepted the fact that I'll probably be functioning on no sleep for the next two decades or so, but lately  I've been really tired. Which is how I ended up here, at our neighborhood iHop on a Tuesday morning, when I'd otherwise be in a meeting or reading emails. Instead I'm doing what I love to do - writing - for the first time in a really, really long time. I have to admit, It feels pretty good. Mommies need "Me Days."

The rest of today will likely consist of all the things I never have time to do, like eyebrow waxing and lipstick shopping and making (more) doctors appointments. And even though days like this are so very rare, they're so refreshing.

Still, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't already anticipating that pie-faced smile from my little guy when I walk in the door. This is hard work. But it's so worth it.

So, so, so :-)