About Having Babies

About Having Babies

Grandma holding her baby - photo

Never did I think this would be a topic I would write about, at least not until maybe after the fact. But talk to any stranger in the grocery store all the way up to your best friends and suddenly it no longer feels like a personal matter. Everyone is quick to ask when we plan to have these sweet little cherubs.

If you had asked me in high school what I wanted to be when I grew up, I usually said something along the lines of “being a mom.” I’d start out by talking about college or maybe some sort of career in the meantime, but that wasn’t the real goal in my mind. When we got married, we told people we were on the “five-year plan” (why people feel they need to know that is beyond me). A couple years ago we joked with people that we were on the “nonstop five-year plan” meaning we were always five years out from having kids. The great thing about saying five years is that it is close enough that people are assured we think kids are in our future but far enough away that people hopefully stop asking us about it for awhile. Lately it feels like the questions have grown more serious and our “five-year” response isn’t doing the trick anymore–but I don’t really know. I’d still say give it time. Plenty of time. We’re in no real rush.

To be honest, sometimes I am overwhelmed by the weight of it all. The idea of raising someone in this world. Our world that’s full of hardship and disappointment, wars and disease. The thought of navigating all of life’s pitfalls through the eyes of the next generation.

I find myself rushing through so much of life right now. Rushing to secure my next job and settle into a career path. Scrambling to live life to its fullest by hardly ever saying “no” to spending time with friends. Hustling to establish a blog that reaches people beyond my immediate circles. Pushing to plan a trip of a lifetime out of the country somewhere with my husband. And over the weekend I realized why–I feel like I have to fit it all in before kids. I want to make sure I accomplish so many of these goals before I have another major priority in my life. I think that’s why there’s this huge sense of urgency in me.

In all actuality, I want kids and so does the hubby. So don’t you worry your pretty little head. One day we’ll add a few littles to this household, and it will be messy, loud, crazy and wonderful all at once. But as the reality of that creeps closer I wrestle with what that might mean. Am I overthinking it? Or worse, underthinking it? (Is that even a word?)

Maybe every potential parent has these fears or feels the magnitude of such things. Or maybe instead they were thrust into it before having enough time to really think it over yet somehow they seem to manage just fine. I suppose time (and a kid or two) will tell.


p.s. Sorry if I got your hopes up…this is clearly not an announcement.


Sometimes, there are no words. No words that can really sum it all up. No words that can make it all better. No words to truly express how emotion has taken hold. It’s like trying to catch the ocean’s waves with only a butterfly net.

Yet we try to do something about those thoughts and feelings. Whether it’s running away from them, pushing them forward, drowning them out, hiding from them or creating something new.

This week, I had no words. Instead, we created music. While my relationship with music is complicated, I am so grateful for it. It put emotion and meaning into something regarding a tragedy in someone else’s life. There’s nothing I can do and to be honest, I’m incredibly distant from the situation in almost every way.

Since writing it, I’ve been practically consumed by this song. Singing it over and over and now that we have some scratch tracks, I’ve been listening to it on repeat. I can’t tell you why I responded as strongly as I did, other than to say, “Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.” – Romans 12:15

I have no words to close us out. No summary lesson on what this blog’s about. No link to the song as it’s not actually done yet. I suppose all I can say is to keep loving one another. Pray for each other, as sometimes that’s all you can really do.

Eve of a Milestone

Cloudy Shore

For the past few weeks I have thought a lot about this post. Something about turning 25 seems to matter and tomorrow that’s just what I’ll do. I don’t often put a lot of stock in birthdays and typically don’t even let people know it’s happening. My husband can probably tell you about times when we have gone to hang out with people or been at a party and I forbade him to tell anyone that it was my birthday. I don’t really know why, but I’ve kept it more or less secret for awhile. This year I opened the flood gates and made my birthday visible to the masses on Facebook.

Years ago, while studying abroad in college I remember missing a surprise party for someone back home. He was turning 25, and it felt monumental to me at the time. The quarter century mark. We had a fair amount in common, and I looked up to him and respected him (still do, although I haven’t seen him in years). It just felt like something was really happening in his life at that turning point, and I don’t really know why I felt that way or what it was.

As I sit here eating cold pizza and writing a blog on the eve of my birthday I’ve never felt more like a millennial. Not only do I typically hide my birthday, but I often avoid revealing my age. I’ve felt older than my real age since kindergarten. Looking younger than I am never helps, but my friends are almost all older. My adulthood seemed to start sooner between being financially independent after high school, graduating college early and getting married young. I hate being belittled for my age. Yet, here I am, embodying the status quo of a millennial. No job but plenty educated, no idea where I’m going in life, chasing happiness and freelancing on the side. Being married in this time of unemployment has kept me from retreating to my mother’s basement, thankfully.

In the weeks leading up to tomorrow I had hoped something would come to me—an understanding of what this milestone birthday meant or some pearl of wisdom to share. Alas, I have little to offer there. This birthday still feels big though, like something has to happen or is happening. I almost expect to wake up in the morning and actually feel different.

I’m no longer a teenager and haven’t been one for more years than I spent in high school. I’ve been driving for over a decade yet still panic whenever I see a police car. I live with the man I married but am constantly amazed by the power of love. I leave clothes on the floor more often than not but never go a day without making the bed. I like my hair long and seldom wear makeup. Drinking has lost its luster, but I know which wines I most prefer. I have a good group of friends and like to think I am one in return. Budgeting has allowed me (us) to be debt-free, but I still fall prey to a $20 dress in Target almost every time I’m there. I go to the grocery store weekly, but almost never cook. My watch is worn almost daily, but I always seem to be running at least five minutes late. I love writing but will put it off for days for no good reason other than my own insecurities. I have learned a few things about myself but don’t always recognize the person in the mirror.

The next stage in life is a total mystery, when up until this point I always had some sort of plan. Something is happening, but I guess I will have to tell you what it is later. Welcome to 25.