Baby Lusting

Oh hi.

Yes, I am back from BlogHer.  But I am all kinds of exhausted (at least I am guessing.  I am writing this on Tuesday before I go).

So I have a lovely guest post for you.

Her name is Taryn and she writes at Mama’s Got Wanderlust.

Taryn is a Canadian expat living in Moscow, and she has the hankerin’ for another little beh beh.

Here is her story.

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I remember the day it happened. It was a crisp spring afternoon shortly after my 29th birthday, and suddenly everything changed.
I was walking around downtown and spotted across the street from me a young woman with a big round preggers belly. Sure, I’d seen tons of preggos in my life before, but for some reason this one caught my eye. And suddenly my feet stopped moving and my breath caught in my throat. And a hunger like I’ve never known swam up from the pit of my belly and swallowed me whole. I needed to have a baby.

My mom must have given quite the safe-sex talk when I was a teenager, because up to this point I had been something akin to terrified of getting pregnant. And seriously paranoid about it too: when I was in my early twenties, despite being on the birth control pill and using condoms, more months than I care to count I found myself peeing on a stick while my boyfriend freaked out on the other side of the bathroom door. It was always negative, of course.
You know when you have PMS and you get that chocolate craving? It’s not the regular had-a-bad-day chocolate craving, but the kind where you feel like you might stop breathing if you dont get some right this minute, right? Well that’s what this new urge felt like, but multiplied by 10. And that day on the street, I know it sounds completely cliché, but a strong biological urge took hold of me and whispered in my ear “reproducccccce. Reproducccccce.”
Why the sudden onset of baby lust? Maybe it was because of the big 3-0 looming around the corner. Maybe it was all that societal pressure, as a woman, to have it all, nuclear family included. Or maybe it was because I finally found myself feeling like a real grown-up: I had a good job with a great salary and promising long-term prospects; I was in a healthy committed relationship (with my now husband); I was content all around.
So we talked, my potential baby daddy and I. And talked and talked and talked. And then we took a break for some love-making, after which we agreed that we were ready for parenthood and would start trying to get pregnant. Good thing too, because two weeks later I once again found myself peeing on a stick. And this time it was positive.
I was one of those lucky women who loved being pregnant. Sure, I constantly complained about aches and pains, and lived on crackers and apricots for a month, but I also felt better than I ever have in my entire life. And happier too.
And then Charlotte was born, and whatever semblance of happiness I had previously felt was completely eclipsed by the unfathomable joy that this little person has brought to our lives.
Typical man that he is, hubby immediately started talking about baby #2. He got the evil eye from me, and learned to shut his mouth.
But Charlotte is now 18 months old. And the other day, I noticed a preggers down the platform from me at the metro station. And that old familiar feeling came over me, the whole throat-closing, feet-like-stone, delicious whispering in my ear. And I swear I felt my uterus poke me, telling me it was time for some more baby-making.
I guess it’s time for me and the hubby to sit down for another talk.

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Thank you, Taryn for bringing your baby yearns to Sluiter Nation.  We have a bit ‘o the baby dust here and hopefully it will rub off on you!

Oh, and thanks for saving my tired, BlogHer butt.  Your words were beautiful.  Mine would have been an incoherent pile.

Come on peeps, give Taryn the encouragement she needs!

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