Hormones are fickle things

I walked into Daniel's room today to toss a shirt in the laundry basket and was hit full-force with a memory. It was probably a conglomeration of memories, as this happened many nights when Daniel was still teeny tiny, but man. It was powerful. Daniel was still just a few weeks old. I was still waking up many times during the night to nurse, change diapers, eat snacks to satisfy my ravenous appetite, and of course, to just make sure he was still ok. I suppose it was something about the way that Mars aligned with my left shoulder, but suddenly, I was back there. In Spring, at our old home, with a tiny infant to care for. My senses were overwhelmed with the way I felt at 2:13 am. I could feel the sleep in my eyes and the grogginess in my limbs. I could smell his itty bitty baby smells. I could hear the tick of the clock and the hum of the white noise machine. I could almost see the dim light coming under the door from the other room. I could taste the peanut butter crackers I'd grabbed on the way in. I was all but there.

It wasn't the memory or the vividness of the memory that struck me. What struck me was this - I wanted to be there. It's not all that shocking to want to relive the past, but this was different. It was every sense of my self shouting at me that I want to be up in the middle of the night with a new one. I want to remember the way it feels to nurse a newborn. I want to do all of those things again. Right now.

I guess this was my body's way of telling me, "Hey dude. Get ready. 'Cause this is where we're headed." And I guess the craziest thing of all was that my response wasn't, "Ok . . . ?" It was, "When do we start????" Giddy with anticipation. Ready to meet a new Carey. Excited to bring another little life into the world. So come on, little one! Mama's ready for you!