Holy Cow

I just found out that an online friend of mine (Yes, that's possible, for all of you skeptics. I'm friends with people I've never met in person. And they are the only way I made it through six weeks of bed rest without going completely bonkers.) Anyway, an online friend of mine whose son is a couple weeks older than Declan is pregnant again! She's due in August.

This just makes my mind spin for so many, many reasons. One, this is medically possible?! Two, someone felt good enough and well-rested enough and not paralyzingly embarrassed of their body enough to make a baby?! And three, HOW DO I PREVENT THIS?! I mean, duh, I know how to prevent it. But after reading my friend's announcement, I just feel like being extra, extra sure, because the idea of trying to manage a ten-month-old and a newborn simultaneously makes me nauseous. I want to install deadly lasers in the doorway to my bedroom, programmed so that only Declan and I can enter. Or maybe dig a moat. With crocodiles. And sharks. I'm really not ready for another baby.

I had my six-week postpartum checkup today, the doctor said everything looked "totally normal." Which is a huge relief to me, because I was half expecting her to take a peek down there and be like, "OMG! Why didn't you call me earlier! Your stitches are terribly infected and we're going to have to amputate your lady parts!" Okay, well, I knew they weren't terribly infected, but scar tissue down there is a very tricky thing... Sorry, I'll stop. Sorry.

More later, I'm trying to make the most of the baby-is-asleep-in-the-bouncer-for-once-in-his-life time that I'm being blessed with, and there is a heaping pile of laundry to fold. Some things you just can't do one-handed.