baby fever. Ugh

not a baby who has a fever, a me who has BABYFEVER. I hate this. It's been going on and on and on and on. In my imaginary world where nothing is real I would pop out a baby girl. But I can't, or it's close enough to can't that it's pretty much not ok, not going to happen. I had my son three months early, he had tons of complications and I was really sick for a long time, i managed to die briefly at the hospital (eclampsia) and it was hard to get under control and the whole think went from totally fine to totally fucked in about 24 hours. I know I don't want to kill my son's mother so that he can have a sibling, and then the damn baby fever crops up and I start to not think about it. Luckily my sex life isn't what you would call super active, so it's not likely to happen on accident. I know having a baby is natural, I know there are no guarantees, but considering that I was briefly actually dead (not just close, not just it was intimated to me that it could happen, not just some scary stuff happened, not just unconscious, not just a seizure) it seems really stupid and unconscionable, and it makes me feel angry and whiny and sad and stuff. Damn babies.