Ok. I admit. I have the fever.

Baby fever that is. Oh gosh. Did I just admit that? I have been trying to lie to myself that I didn't want another child. I have been dropping hints at hubby. He hasn't really commented one way or another. Yesterday I told him I had some news for him. I forget now, what the actual news was. He said to me, "You're pregnant?". I said, "yes I am". Of course I was joking. But part of me wanted to see his reaction. I asked him what his reaction would have been if I really was expecting another baby. His answer, "It would be weird". I told him unashamedly, "you know - I would not be sad at all". That is kind of where the topic ended. How did this happen? I was so sure we were done - and I didn't want anymore. Here we are 3+ years out from our last baby's birth. I thought for sure I had made it. I was looking forward to the prospect of being completely done with diapers soon. Being able to get away on date nights. Yet all of a sudden I am plagued by this overwhelming desire to have more another baby. So I am accepting baby dust I guess? Well, that and prayers that hubby gets the fever too.