"Of course not." I lied.
We walked down the familiar, quiet hallway that leads to the labor and delivery rooms and I smiled as my mind flooded with memories of our experience here just nine short months ago. My heart pumped a little faster as we approached the very room in which I delivered Morgan. I recalled all the details: the drum-drum-drumming sound of the fetal heart rate monitor, the morning sun peeking thought the slits of the closed blinds, the chaos that followed when my nurse discovered I was fully dilated, the way Adam-in his Family Guy pajama pants-tried, but couldn't successfully hide his tears, the moment I took a deep breath and pushed, the incredible high I felt in those very last moments before Morgan arrived.
The more I thought about, the more I realized that I hadn't actually lied to Adam in the parking lot. I wasn't BABY hungry, I was LABOR hungry! (No, I'm not being medicated for this condition, this obvious "kink in my thinking"...although, it has been suggested by some.) Labor, for me, was an absolutely awesome experience. Painful, sure. But the beauty and euphoria of it far outweighed any discomfort I felt. The feeling that comes with bringing a life into this world is a feeling that's absolutely impossible to parallel. It's something that only exists in those tender moments when a mother--exhausted and trembling yet, never more at peace-- holds her newborn baby to her bare chest.
Now, that's not to say that other GREAT feelings don't exist. Everyone has their own favorite, depending on the experiences they've had. For instance, I'll never feel the wonder that my sister did when, after months of waiting and worrying, she hugged Halle's sobbing birthmother, then went to the hospital nursery where she was able to hold and kiss her daughter for the first time. I'm sure that was HER feeling beyond compare. For some people it's skydiving, for others it's running a marathon. MINE just happened to be childbirth.
As I held Ryan in my arms, falling in love with his dark hair and perfect little features, I honestly didn't feel even the slightest hunger for another baby of my own...yet. But as I saw the proud, worn-out smile on Megan's face as she sat there in bed, I couldn't help but feel just a little envious. Because I remember that feeling. I remember my miracle.
And someday...I'd love to experience it again.
The precious babe: