Dealing with the Dumps

I guess it's time to admit that I have a problem - and that problem is called "baby fever." I am afraid I've caught the worst strain: Icravus Basonetticus.

I'm not ready to have a baby, and it's not really something that I want. Being a 22 year old woman with many pregnant friends, however, can make one very impressionable. I'm so glad Steve has a level head right now, because I'd be making some very stupid decisions with no one to tell me "Umm, Amber, that's really stupid."

I'm too selfish to be a mother right now, and I'm okay with that. I have always wanted a career and a good education, and I can't quit now. I am too much in debt to say goodbye to Graduate school when I just started - and if I become a doctor as I plan to be, I will have the resources necessary to take care of my family. I never want my children to feel neglected, lonely, or (this is the most important one) hungry - - I want to be able to give my kids everything. And I know I will never be able to do that. But I am much closer if I have an AuD.

BUT - - not being ready for a baby doesn't mean I can't have way too much fun oogling at baby stuff. Becky went into the hospital today to have her baby (yay!) Bambi and Tiffany are a few months out - - I can put this here because they don't read my blog, but I'm hoping that I can split the cost of the crib set with her mother. I know they don't have much right now and the "un-named daughter" (as I call her!) was quite unexpected. I've been cooing over mittens and little hats so much that I made Steve make a fist the other day so I could "model" the little beanie at Wal-Mart.

It's a sickness, I'm telling you!!

I just recently got called to the church nursery, which should curb this for a bit. I think it will reverse my ovary-explosions for some time, actually. Though I have to admit, when Liam reached out to me and slept on my shoulder this past Sunday, it was hard not to say "Steve, let's go home and have a kid... like, right now."

I have three babies already, though, in my kitties that are currently sleeping on the couch. Frisco has developed an odd patch on his neck, which I'm keeping a close eye on.

I wish I could say I was cured from my illness of the past year, but I can't say I am. I can't take an Excedrin without feeling like I'm going to fall over - and that's my body's reaction to every type of pain reliever at this point. My depression has recently flared, and I have been thinking about getting on some anti-depressants for that along with a cure for my anxiety, but I know it's going to kill my sex drive, and I'm thinking that's just not worth the risk after what happened to me while I was on the pill. I hate this feeling of perpetually being ill - and I hope it stops soon. Actually I'm just terrified that it's something serious and I don't know who to ask for help. I feel a bit lonely in that arena because it seems like no one knows me well enough to be alarmed with me... it just seems like I'm being a hypochondriac, when I can't explain "no, actually - I haven't been nauseated since I was 5, so feeling like I'm going to throw up every day for six months is absolutely NOT normal."

No, I'm not pregnant. I have baby fever, remember?

Love to all!