Is There Womb For Everybody?

"All that she want is another baby." - Ace of Base



That little ditty came out shortly before the arrival of our second child. I can remember Hubbalicious singing it to me while I was in labor with her. And my adoring response:

"Shut up!"


Things have sure changed since I first started having kids, 21 years ago. With my first, I had to have an emergency C-section. They put a mask over my face. The next thing I knew, someone was smearing Blistex on my lips and another someone kept trying to hand me this baby. "Take him, you'll like him!"


The second, also a c-section, was a little more entertaining. My husband stood overhead and gave my the play-by-play. "You should SEE what they're doing! This is SO cool!"



Number three was a VBAC. He was a breeze, in comparison to the first two. (An omen of things to come? One can only hope!)



By the time I got to my fourth child, I just went through the drive-through. What, I got fries with her. . .


We attended the arrival party for our newest family member last night. My husband's youngest sister lay in the bed looking uncomfortable while twenty people stood around the small room and shot the breeze. I leaned over and commented to my Father-in-law, "If I'd have known it was this kind of party, I'd have brought the Salsa. . ."


Fortunately, about the time that 7th Heaven started in with her latest round of questions ("Now, Mommy, where EXACTLY is that 'special place' the doctor gets the baby?") we were ushered out into the waiting room.


A short time later, we huddled around the video camera, watching my newest niece make her appearance as the final shreds of her mother's dignity were carefully hidden behind my Mother-in-law's head. "Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!"


We never did get to see the actual baby. It got late, the gang got restless(er) and we decided we'd pop back in once everyone was more "settled."


As we dive into the beginning of another "baby season" in our family (we've got three coming for sure and one "suspicious" one), I have to admit that I enjoy all the fuss and excitement, the stories and laughter we exchange amidst the anticipation and the comfort we take in knowing that everything came out okay in the end.


We dragged in pretty late, passed out the smooches and promptly hit the sack. The teens, more prone to late nights than their parents, hit the shower and the computer. As we lay there in the dark, drifting off to blissful slumber, my husband patted my stomach and made the comment, "I wonder what it's like to have a big ole' lump there, and then. . .it's just gone."


About that time, the hall light clicked on and Halfway Between stage-whispered, "Hey Mom!"


"Oh, no, dear. . .it's not gone. It's in the hallway and it apparently needs something. . ."


Have fun!