Another Slice of Cheesecake

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

The other night G went out and I stayed home with Lucca. I wanted to go out, we could have found a babysitter, but I really didn't mind having some quiet time to myself on a Saturday night. We had a very busy day, and Lucca was practically begging me to put him to bed.
He went to sleep no problem, and I poured myself a glass of wine, watched 'How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days' on TV, and perused around Pinterest for awhile. I put myself to bed when I couldn't really keep my eyes open anymore and when I ran out of wine. Snooze city on a Saturday night.
At 4 a.m., for whatever reason, I was woken up by Lucca crying out in his room. I waited a second before I even turned on the monitor. When I flicked on the screen, I saw him standing there with his blanket in one hand and a cat named Buttercup (Bubber-Bup) from my childhood in the other. Now I usually, (and I'm talking like 99% of the time), let him get himself back to sleep. But his cry sounded different. I didn't wait much longer.
I walked in to his room, scooped him up (with his blankie and Bubber-Bup still in clenched in his hands) and he instantly quieted when he flopped over my left shoulder. Now again, this isn't usually my tactic. If I ever do go in his room, it's usually to lay him down and walk right out. But I couldn't. Not tonight. I missed this.
I don't know why, but I felt so sad when I picked him up. I could really see how big he's grown just by how far his legs extended past my hips when I held him. I felt sad at how heavy he felt, the way it took real arm strength to hold up his sleepy body. I missed him being a baby. Maybe it's because I sub-consciously want another baby? And then I wondered, standing in his room at 4 a.m., if I really could ever love another baby the way I have loved this boy. And after all we've been through, would I be able to do this a second-time around? Yes, I know. Profound thoughts for 4 a.m. Maybe it was the wine.

There's that question that everyone asks: "Do you think you'll have more?" As if "having more" is like having more shoes. Or having another slice of cheesecake. There's much more to it. Yes, in theory we want to "have more". But we're so focused on our lives the way they are now that it's difficult to imagine anything different. And when I look back on these past two years, I really wonder if I can handle it all with another babe in the mix. And more importantly, I'm so obsessed with our first babe that I'm not sure I'm ready for that huge shift in our lives.

And this is why motherhood is absolutely INSANE. Pregnancy is a joy and a pain. Childbirth is a joy and (a lot of) pain. And everything after that is a cluster-f*@# of emotions. So many highs and peaks of happiness, so much that your heart could just burst. And then there are so many lows with frustration and weakness when you feel like you're just not gonna make it. You don't know it 'til you're living it. And when you do, you want to do it all over again. Seriously. We're all freaking crazy. It's the best damn thing ever, but it's crazy, you have to admit it.

It's all happened so quickly, as everyone says it does. Our little babe that used to squeak and coo and snuggle now runs around our house like a crazy person and bosses us around on a daily basis. We've made it through difficult phases and have celebrated so many amazing moments. He made us parents, and we are still relishing in that fact every single day.

So right now, I'm just trying to hold on to everything and squeeze the goodness out of every moment with our #1, before we even think about #2. You can probably find me in his room at 4 a.m. like a creeper listening to him breathe, just like I did when he was a newborn. I know that moments like that are numbered, so I'll take advantage of them now.

Ahh motherhood. You never cease to take my emotions on a freaking roller coaster ride.

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