The number one question we get these days is “When are you going to have another one?” Most of the time I just smile and make a joke about sleep or poop, they nod and the conversation moves forward. If he had more than just a few minutes to spare, I would tell “Mr. So-And-So” how I really felt about being pregnant again…

How it took almost 4 months before I felt like myself again, and that while I was falling in love with my new little boy, I wasn’t so sure about how motherhood was fitting.  Sure, Mr. So-And-So, everything worked out in the end but it was a tough road for a while there and quite frankly, I’m not sure if I’m ready quite so soon.

I would proudly pull out some of the pre-pregnancy jeans that finally fit again and defensively explain that while I luckily went down to my normal weight pretty quickly, my body had forever changed and muffin-topping out of my old skinny jeans was not my idea of sexy. Thank you very much.

The conversation would then go down the “Torn-Every-Direction” road where I would probably shed a few tears over wishing I had more hours in the day to devote to my business while never having to miss all those amazing early bedtime moments Jackson and Jim get to share.

And it wouldn’t be a normal dialog these days if I didn’t talk about my boobs. Heh, my boobs…I wish. And the thought of nursing another baby…more tears.

Finally, the conversation would end, as Mr. So-And-So desperately looked for someone to save him from this lunatic mother, with me lovingly remembering what it felt like to be pregnant. That it felt like holding the most beautiful little secret in your belly for 9 months. Sure, the heartburn and pelvic pain was no walk in the park but I, quite happily, would and will do it all over again. In due time.

You see, although I’m not a religious person, being pregnant was as close to sacred that I’ll ever get. And knowing that I’ll only experience this a few times in my life, I’m really not in any hurry.