It is uncanny how many years of a woman’s life can go by without much thought to her cycle other than the cliche hating on her “time of the month.” Then, suddenly, when the thought of trying to have a baby enters the mind, it becomes all encompassing. And I know I am not alone, because I have been surfing the web. A lot.
I am 32 years old, and from the ripe of old age of 17 when I first suspected that getting pregnant might pose a challenge for me, I have been known to say things like, “What’s meant to be will be.” That’s a decade and a half of self talk out the window, because, yeah, not so much anymore. Suddenly, it feels like there is no other option and that life without kids does not exist in my realm of possibilities.
So here is where all of my anxieties and insecurities start to rear an ugly head. It does not help that DH is not a huge fan of sex (sounds weird I know, but I think he was just raised to consider it “dirty.” :/) and even thought we planned to start tonight, there has been NO talk about sex, lots of talk about “tired…” and it is after 11:00.
So I guess I will sign off with “que sera,” but we all know that I don’t mean it.