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“I asked on July 6th 2010 when you two were going to make me an uncle and you said ‘please let us get married first.’ Well, it’s your wedding day and so I’m bringin’ it up again. Please make me an uncle.”

Everyone laughed.

“When are you two going to have kids?” …”I’m going to be too old to enjoy my grandkids” …”If I were my mother, I’d have 4 grandbabies at this age” … “you know that saying – you plan – Gd laughs” …When? “You’re going to have kids, right?” “Is anything wrong? It’s been (over) a year” …


I consciously order wine with meals. I see their disappointment. I sip my pinot noir.

The questions rain down on us. I feel the pressure of biology and time.

I feel the ache. The desire. The fear.

Are we ready to jump off that “everything changes when you have a baby” cliff? You can’t un-jump. When did we come to this point in our lives? When did I start calculating and planning and thinking “I might be three months by then”?

 We have all the boxes checked. We’re in love, married, have a house that even has a fenced in back yard for pete’s sake. Financial stability?  Unless you’re comparing us to Warren Buffett or some Wall Street CEO – we’re good.  We can pay our bills add some to savings, take a trip here and there.

The right time is an illusion. (Isn’t it?) There will never be enough money, time or trips taken. I know that. We know that. Our lives have been in flux for years. 6 months here, 6 months there. I wish we had found each other earlier. Have we enjoyed being married, being just the two of us for long enough? Is there ever a long-enough?

Can’t we just be happy with where we’re at? Believing that we are where we’re supposed to be? It’s so hard to trust. There is so much wrapped up in this. The first (? maybe. I don’t know) grandchild. Ohmygoodness.

I am scared of pregnancy. I am worried about flowing hormones and stretch marks and autism and pain. Of parenting. Of things never being the same.

Surely these aren’t the questions that are pertinent in my life right now?

Baby names via text with Sister today. This spelling or that? Does this first name go with our last name? Husband doesn’t like this one but I do. What about this? We laugh and side with each other before ending the conversation, content that there is more (much?) than 9 months left to decide.

Perhaps this game will take over our “ugly wedding dress quest” where we emailed each other hideous tulle and lace confections in order to induce a smile.


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