Baby Fever?!

I am done having babies.  Let me repeat.  I am done having babies.  I have three boys who are my entire universe, and they are quite enough.  I have my hands full (as every old lady I come across in the grocery store loves to tell me), and no, we will not be "trying for a girl next."  I feel like my time and energy and sanity would be stretched too thin if we added more children to the mix.  I am already half-crazy, and my house is never as clean as it could be.  Selfishly, I want do things with my life that will be much easier once our children are older - take a vacation just with my husband, go back to school, read a book that's longer than Goodnight Moon, or be responsible for brushing only my own teeth.  If I keep having babies, then I will never get to that phase of life.

So can someone please explain just what the heck is going on with me?  Today, while browsing Facebook, a friend's status update proclaimed that she was in labor.  I was so excited for her on this momentous day in her life, but I was also so jealous that I'll never experience labor and birth again (if you think I'm crazy for saying this, please read one of my previous PregTASTIC blogs called Birth Junkie).

Yesterday I talked to one of my pregnant sisters (I have two!), who had just returned home from her baby shower.  Her excitement and anticipation about becoming a mom was so touching, and I think I might be even more excited about her impending motherhood than she is.  Then I though about the fact that I'll never be pregnant again, and that my days of having my own sweet baby are numbered.  I looked at Caleb and thought that he looked huge, not really like a newborn anymore at all.  I actually smelled him to make sure he still smelled babyish.  Then I panicked because I realized that eventually I'll have to wean him (I cannot bring myself to think about that sad day yet), and that someday soon he's going to roll over.  Then the next thing I know, he'll be packing for college.  And then I think I actually felt my uterus cringe.

WHAT?!  I have a three month old.  And a two year old.  And a four year old.  I am constantly exhausted and rarely clean.  I have plenty of children that keep me plenty busy, so why in the world would I feel that twinge that I want more babies?  Why have I been sad all day thinking about the fact that pregnancy and birth are a thing of the past for me?  Why do I suddenly want to keep nursing Caleb until he's in kindergarten?  Logically, I know I don't want more kids (see first paragraph).  I should be enjoying the present and looking ahead to the next phase of our lives.  But instead I feel a little like my heart is grieving, mourning the loss of babyhood.  I think I have loved being a mom three times over and love my babies so much that I want to hold onto those feelings and experiences.  I knew with our first two sons that we'd eventually have another baby (we always planned on having three), so I was never hesitant to say goodbye to each phase that passed.  My life has revolved around growing and birthing and raising babies for the last five years.  It's a huge part of my identity that I will be shedding in the coming years, and it's not easy to let go of, even if I know it's what I want.
Luckily, I still have a baby who is very much a baby.  He will prove it to me in about two hours when he wakes up for his first mid-night feeding.  I still have time to savor his chubby thighs and downy hair, and I will enjoy watching him grow into his own little person in the next few months, as I enjoyed watching his brothers before him.  I will also have two new nieces soon.  They should help give me a newborn fix.  Otherwise, I'm in trouble.  I might have to change my name to Baby Junkie!