All I Want for Christmas

I don't want to seem like I'm not excited, because trust me I am. But to me when I look down, I don't see a baby. I see a bulging uterus. When I feel a little something I don't think baby, I think ligaments. And in case you may be thinking maybe I'm not the overly maternal type, I am. Really, I am. I love babies. Maybe that's the problem. A self imposed protective mechanism I've developed over the last few years. Don't look at someone else's baby. Don't think about babies. Then I wont want one. I wont think about wanting one. The overwhelming and heart wrenching desire to hold and cuddle hasn't been there and I've been thinking, "What's wrong with me?"

As is customary in Mormon culture, we take meals when you have a baby. I stood on the front porch in the rain waiting for a woman who had a baby a week ago to answer. She answered the door with her new little girl wrapped in a blanket. She was all wriggly and pink with chunky cheeks. And all of a sudden it hit me standing there in my scrubs and yellow rain boots. I almost melted into a puddle on her porch. A baby!

I came in the door and announced to my husband, "I want one of those!" And over his laptop screen he distractedly said, "Well, that's good because you're getting one."

I'm getting one of those!