Baby Fever: When a woman is really in love with the idea of having a baby and thus wants to ogle every baby she sees. She may not mentally want to get pregnant, but she has the physical and emotional urge.
My name is Lindsey and I suffer from baby fever. I’m about to be 37 years old and have a 2 year old. I struggled with infertility for years and am over the moon to be a mother. I’m also 100% okay being a mom to an only child. My husband and I thought long and hard and decided that our family is complete with one, but that doesn’t mean that my heart (and ovaries) don’t jump when I see a gummy smiling infant.
In my head, I know that I don’t want to go through another IVF cycle. I can’t bear the shots, hormones, constant blood draws, and staggering medical expenses not covered by insurance, let alone the emotional turmoil and lack of guarantees. In my head, I know that the newborn phase was brutal for me and that I am relishing sleeping through the night again. In my head, I know that I’m officially in that super sexy “advanced maternal age” risk category (yay) and that it could mean complications. I know all these things in my head, but sometimes my heart goes off-script.
Recent months have brought a parade of new babies in and around our life. At my son’s parent’s day out, 4 of his classmates are now big brothers or big sisters. I watch their moms pushing their car seat carriers towards the toddler class and have to remind myself to hold it together, but who am I kidding? The first glimpse of those tiny new babies totally makes me lose all ability to chill. I get all smiley. I baby talk. I fight the urge to pick them up and smell their heads because 1) hey, weirdo and 2) it’s cold and flu season.
New life is so precious, it’s intoxicating and this mama is quick to get baby drunk. I’ll satisfy my baby fever by babysitting for friends, holding a baby for a mom with her hands full, and helping my family when they welcome their little ones. Then I’ll go home and play trucks with my toddler and be oh so thankful for the opportunity to watch him grow. So to the mom of the little ones that I can’t help but stare at in awe, bear with me. I’ll be respectful of boundaries. I’m not crazy. I just need that little glimpse to tide me over.