Lately, it seems wherever I go... I am surrounded by big, beautiful pregnant bumps. At work, the grocery store, the gym, church, the park - I can't escape them! And I must admit it: I am so jealous 'cause I want to have one too!
Now, before my husband reads this and starts to sweat bullets... let me make this point clear. I want to be pregnant. I do not, however, want to have another baby. I know, I know - you're thinking, now Rhonda, honey, it just doesn't work that way. Trust me, of this I am well aware, which is why I have an IUD - in case I were tempted to go down that road again...
It's just that... I loved being pregnant. I loved it from the moment those two little lines turned pink to the moment I held each of my daughters in my arms. I loved the roundness of my belly, the fullness of my cleavage, the rosiness of my cheeks. I loved those first kicks, those ever-wonderful first "Was that the baby? Maybe it was gas. No it was the baby!" kicks. I loved seeing the ultrasounds, from the time when there was not much more than a tiny peanut to when I could see every amazing detail developing in my ever-growing womb, right down to the curvature of a profile and the way those little fingers managed to make it into the mouth. I loved hearing the soft "woosh-woosh-woosh" of the heartbeat through the doppler. I loved those moments later in pregnancy where I could just make out the semblings of a little foot through my taut skin as the glow of the lamp shone upon it at nighttime. I truly did love every single miraculous, wondrous moment.
And I miss it.
Even now I think back and try to remember just how it felt to have my little ones growing and moving inside me but it's a feeling I'm unable to reproduce.
And I miss it.
I have often said that I would be pregnant all of the time were it not for that tiny detail of having to have a child every nine months... and I am being completely honest when I say it. I can't deny that I long to experience the joy that is pregnancy again, but I am more than certain that my family is complete. My cup runneth over with love for my two girls.
For now, I'm satisfied with fondly reminiscing about that season of my life while reminding myself that every day is one step closer to diaper freedom. I'm satisfied knowing that my closet is rid of every elastic-waist pair of pants I ever owned. And I'm content with the family we've become.
That's not to say I still don't want one of those bellies, and I know I'm not alone in this sentiment. So you preggos out there, humor us. If you're at the store and you happen to see some crazy lady staring at your bump with a far-off look in her eyes, just smile, rub that belly, enjoy every moment and know that, someday, you'll be in our shoes.