I’m going to open up and be really vulnerable here, mostly because I napped all day and now it’s midnight and I’m reading the marriage posts on Offbeat Home and A Practical Wedding (two wonderful blogs!) It’s inspired me to open up and become a little vulnerable on this tiny corner of the internet.
A little background: At my wedding 11 months ago, three of my friends were pregnant or new moms, while two of my cousins were pregnant or about to become pregnant. Now, my other cousin and his wife just celebrated their youngest turning two. One of the friends we made this year often brings his little girl to game night, and I wind up playing with her for hours. A few other friends are actively trying to get pregnant. And here I am, stuck on the pill because while we’re emotionally ready to start the Mom-and-Dad thing, we’re not quite there yet.
We’ve got this great vacation to New Zealand planned for next year that’s a combo belated-honeymoon and Last Vacay Before Kids thing. You can’t travel an entire country in three weeks with morning sickness and sore boobs (well, maybe someone else could, but I am not that woman!) Hubby won’t get his annual raise until October, which will put us at the bare minimum of what we feel we can raise a kid with successfully. One of my anxiety triggers is Really Expensive Things, and there isn’t much that is more expensive that a child. I also would like to be a little more advanced in my own career and on my way to retail management before Ms. Egg meets Mr. Sperm.
So we wait. While my Facebook feed fills up with happy, cherubic infant faces and videos of funny toddler antics, and yes, the inevitable rants about sleep deprivation, stinky diapers and temper tantrums. It doesn’t matter, because right now, my biological clock is ticking louder than Big Ben with the world’s biggest megaphone attached to it. Colin is less antsy, or at least more quiet about it, but I know he really wants to be a father. Still, we wait, and pray for 2016 when I can go off the pill.
So, Mommies and Daddies of the world, I apologize in advance for going completely mushy around your children. I apologize if I bug you to hold your kid, help feed your kid, watch you change a dirty diaper because I don’t know how but I’m not ready to be hands on, ask for advice that I won’t use for months, steal your kid for tickle time, and go on this exact same rant about Waiting To Get Pregnant Really Sucks. I apologize if I ask personal questions about fertility tracking, the less pleasant aspects of pregnancy, how to make pregnancy easier on your partner, and parenting choices related to your kid’s biological sex (to circumcise your son or not, that is the question!) I ask these questions because, like Jon Snow, I know nothing. I know I am going to be that obnoxious, baby-obsessed friend until I actually get pregnant. I am truly sorry.
But it sort of hurts, this wanting. I’m completely jealous that you, the parents amongst my friends and relatives, have had the privilege of creating and shaping new life. Of hearing a real person laugh for the very first time ever. Of being able to say “She totally gets her stubbornness from my side” or “He sneezes just like his grandpa,” because these things are knowable to you. Of being able to bond with your child over food, whether it comes from breast, bottle, or squeeze-it pack. Watching them grow, change, almost minute-by-minute — okay, maybe I’m glamorizing parenthood. I also understand it’s damned hard work and a lot of terrifying responsibility. It doesn’t make me want it less, and it doesn’t make it hurt less when I see others have it.
I’m sorry for being jealous. I’m sorry if I get obnoxious with the kid thing. Just be patient, and like me and Hubs, pray for February.