Children are a blessing. So I've heard. However, they were not in the picture of my immediate future for a long time. My husband and I married young, on purpose. We were in love and contrary to what some might have believed, did not have a bun in the oven. This June we will be celebrating our seventh anniversary. It hardly seems possible. I've been with him for over a decade. Sometimes if feels to me as if it were just a few years ago we started dating. He's for sure, my best friend and wins the best hubby award too. I am still constantly bragging about him to everyone I know and I think the world of him. I am still so in love with him and excited to see him at the end of the day. I'm really proud of that too. Of our relationship and the things we've conquered together. We've really learned about communication and how each other works but still find out, even after seven years, there is always something new you can learn about a person. I attribute most of the good things I've done or had or been given in my life to him. It all has been perfect, in an imperfect world. I wouldn't take back a second of it.
So...children. Babies. When is the right time? This is a question we've struggled with for a while now. Why mix it up? Why change something that is just so perfect right now for the both of us? For at least five years, I don't think it was even in the picture for me. As in, I didn't allow myself to think about it because, COLLEGE and then WORK and then FUN (and I can finally afford it). It was just some off in the future thought like retirement. I would maybe say random comments about these far off future events such as, "When we have kids" and "I hope my kid does/says/is...". You get the idea. That's about as far as I really got in the whole process. I have some friends who have had children for almost as long as my marriage. I have some who have no children and don't plan to for a while. I know what both sides of the whole thing looks like. I've in theory known I wanted kids but not really, in actual real life.
Then, about six months ago, I started to feel like my days were on repeat. Not that I've seen the movie, but I was experiencing Groundhog's Day. Wake up, get ready for work, work, come home and take care of things and then go to bed. Rinse and repeat. I still love my life, don't get me wrong, but it almost felt pointless. Like, it's moving by faster each day and I need to slow down and be mindful of every moment. I need to do something bigger than me. I don't want to say it feels like something is missing, because I'm very happy with how things are now, but I wouldn't mind something new coming around either. For months now, I've been staring at pregnant women who walk by me and reading All. The. Things...articles and opinion pieces about pregnancy and children. I have stacks of books on various topics and I sometimes feel like I can't read enough. Like if I keep reading, I'll figure out some unknown secret to myself. Am I ready? Do I feel ready? What is ready, exactly? Is one ever really ready? Should I want this more? Should I plan even more? Do I really want to change such a good thing we've got going? How risky is it to wait a few more years? Etc. etc. etc.
The hubby and I came up with a date six months ago. We decided, this magical, golden date was when we would start trying. Both of us with a little hesitation, for probably different reasons. Since then, I've allowed myself to open up to this idea and feel like I've been completely obsessed with it ever since. I am pretty positive I've waaaay over-thought the whole thing and then worried about that a little more. I've talked it to death with a few friends and please nobody look up my Google history. I am trying to take all the perfect, planned out steps. I realize not everyone functions this way, but it works for me. I'm comforted by it because it's the only part of this whole thing that I have control over. I've been taking prenatals for a while, because that's what you are supposed to do. I recently had my preconception visit with my OBGYN, because that's what you are supposed to do. And the next step...the "trying" phase. A phase of life that on some days, I am so sure I want it I can see the chubby cute baby that I will tickle and kiss and admire its fat rolls. While still yet on other days, I hope I'm not cutting a really great phase of my life short. Of our life. I'm still excited though. We both are. The anticipation of the unknown. What a mix of emotions, already. I know the future will only bring more.
I'd be interested to hear where were you in life on this jumping off point, assuming you were planning it? What did ready feel like for you? Is anyone else really excited and terrified all at once? Was there a moment when you realized it was right? Just me? Tell me about it.
