My problem, if you can call it that, is that I love babies - love, love, love them. I love them despite being sleep deprived and covered in spit-up. There's just something so wonderful and miraculous about babies.
I've been reminding myself to really treasure this time with Campbell. He's our last baby, so I don't want to miss anything. With the girls, I used to read while nursing them; with Campbell I study his little face and watch his little fingers and toes move around. Yesterday he gave me his first milky smile while eating, and I just about cried. I sit and hold him long after he's fallen asleep just so I can snuggle with him and feel him breathing. I love watching his face while he sleeps; he runs through so many expressions - happy, concerned, sad - in about 60 seconds.
I have an aunt and uncle who have 8 children, and until I started having kids, I never understood how someone could have that many. But now I do. If we had the money and the space, I'd definitely have more children.