I keep dreaming of another baby. I know I am crazy. I just adore children.
However, last night while sitting in the floor with my almost eight month old Boy Blue I changed my mind. Why? Because I will turn gray with worry if I have five children.
Boy Blue was sitting in between my legs. Before I could catch him he lurched forward and landed smack on his face. He survived the fall with a busted mouth that blood was dripping out of. My heart stopped when I saw the blood and my Mama instincts went crazy. I cleaned his mouth with a dish towel. Luckily, he was screaming so big and loud I did not have to pry open his mouth to see inside. His top lip was busted and that was where the blood was coming from.
After I kissed him hard all over his face and then gently on his hurt mouth, we settled into our chair where I nursed him to sleep. As I watched him gently sucking on his tongue like a pacifer in his sleep, love flowed from me and wrapped him up tight and safe warm against his Mama.
I told my husband that I am done with babies. I can’t keep walking around with my heart in my throat for worry. I just can’t. One more baby will do me in.