Chris O’Donnell, the actor, is having his fifth child with his wife. And I am jealous. I should clarify that this is not some random jealousy either. He and I grew up down the road from one another on Chicago’s North Shore. Although he is a couple of years older than me, it’s always been fun to watch his career. I take great pride in being able to say, “hey! We’re from the same neighborhood!” when I see him in a movie or on TV.

Anyway, his wife is pregnant with the couple’s fifth child and I saw a picture of him on the cover of a magazine and he looked so happy with his kids – his gaggle of kids. And I felt a pang of envy. A big one. My husband and I agreed that it would be two kids for us, and we took measures to make sure that there were not going to be any surprises further down the road. And by measures, I mean surgery. For me. It seemed like a good idea at the time, although I sometimes wonder if the sole reason I agreed to it was because I was in the final stages of a really difficult pregnancy and was sure that there was no way in hell I was ever going to go through that again. Let me just say that it’s true what you’ve probably heard – as tough as pregnancy can be, as exhausting as giving birth can be, you do forget the discomforts… you forget the nausea all day every day for three months, you forget about the inability to sleep at night, you forget all about the heartburn and the feeling of having to pee every 10 minutes and any other little inconvenience or pain or annoyance. You even forget about the contractions and the labor and the epidural and everything that comes after. You forget it the minute your child leaves your body and enters the world. And it is miraculous, and joyous and intensely terrifying, and if you are anything like me, you will immediately say, upon having your baby placed on your tummy, “let’s do this again right away.” And I know other women who have said the exact same thing. I’m pretty sure it’s the high from having this amazing new life snuggled up in your arms. It’s this moment when time stands still and I just really can’t find the words to clarify all of the emotions. But if you’ve done it, you know that feeling and if you haven’t done it, but plan to, well you will know soon enough how much of a miracle it all is. I felt that flood of feelings after Pea’s birth. And I felt it again after Coco’s birth, but it was like a bubble that was immediately burst open because then I remembered. I remembered that I would not be doing this again. And I was a little sad. But I had this new life to get to know and so I quickly got past it. But now, I find myself cuddled up with Coco in her rocking chair in her room late at night, nursing her, and it’s just the two of us in the dark quiet, and I can smell her and feel her and I get this aching in my body for another little one.

Growing up, I always thought I’d have four kids. I have no clue why. Growing up, it was my brother and me. And twelve years later there was a half-sister. And then a few years later there was a step-sister. And many, many years later there was another half-sister. She and I are 25 (!) years apart. So you can see that really, it was just my brother and me. So this yearning for four kids, where did it come from? I think now, looking back, that it came out of my fascination with the Kennedy clan, and wanting to have a huge clan of my own. Thanksgiving football games on the front lawn, raucous holiday parties. I just wanted a large and lively household – constant energy.

My husband, an avid winter sportsman, has his theory of family and it revolves around his beloved high-speed quad chairlift in Vail, CO. Four seats: two kids plus us and no one is left out, no one is left behind to ride alone. I can appreciate that, because as the eldest of an eventual group of five kids, I was often the one left out… left behind to ride up with someone else’s family.

And yet, I see Chris O’Donnell on the cover of the magazine, crisp white shirts on everyone and these beaming All-American grins and I want that to be me, to be us – my family. And I know that in reality life does not actually look like the cover of that magazine, God knows with kids there’s rarely time for a pressed and pristinely white shirt. I’m lucky if I can make it through the day without having to change more than twice. But that picture is really the image I hold – or held – in my head of how my life would look. Part of me thinks that this intense longing is the crazy hormones surging through my body right now and the other part of me thinks that I really do want more kids. But all of me knows that if these two girls, my two girls, are it for us, well then really, it is more than enough and I am truly blessed.

Two peas in a pod.