Macrame, Babies & Other Oddities

Holy Smokes.

File this under: Hardest Post Ever


Exactly one month from tomorrow, I will turn 30.

I am, as Sabrina Ward Harrison would say, feeling the feelings of my age.

I'm not saying that I am feeling old.  I am grateful.  I think complaining about your age on milestone birthdays is completely overdone.  It's better than the alternative, right?

However, the older I get, the more it seems I have to lose...and the seemingly LARGE things seem less and less important.

Work. Fashion. Hollywood. Money

...?

But like I said, the more I have to lose.

And I realize right now, I am writing an awful lot without actually getting to the point.

And then I posted a dead, cartoon fish.

Forgive me.

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I am realizing that life is a collection of Very Small Moments and Important Decisions we hold close to our hearts.  Kent Nerburn would call them Blue Moments.

They are the cards we view with our elbows tucked in very tightly.  Wrists turned in.  

I don't know about you, but I don't tend to talk about These Moments very much.  Not because they aren't worthy of mentioning, but perhaps quite the opposite.

They just seem sacred.  I guess.

The first time I held Lucy.  My first morning in Hawaii with Tim (Yowza).  My lone trip to Starbucks the night before our wedding.  Et cetera. 



But today, I will show you part of my hand.  I've got a card, it seems, that is no longer relevant.  Like bringing an UNO deck to a game of poker.

In case you didn't know, Tim and I are extremely private about our family planning.  It's not something we like to address with other people.  It's too much pressure.  And it feels weird.


And it's fun you know?  Having a secret.

However.

For a long time, we said we were going to start trying to have baby the spring I turned 30.

And then last-last January, Tim lost his job.

And a year passed.

Then, February hit...and then March, and with each passing week, it became painfully obvious that this little plan of ours was slowly becoming non-existent.

To the point that we don't even talk about babies anymore.

And I realize that the thing about babies is that you start to miss someone you've never even met before and then all at once, you have lost something you never even had in the first place.

Which, I'm well aware, is CRAZY.

     People are strange animals.  We are the only creatures in the world that miss something we've never experienced.  

And I'm very aware that if I were my sister, I would be pregnant by now.  If I were my mother, I would be toting baby #2.

Who in the world invented that game?  It's daunting.  Really.

And for heaven's sake, people are rude, ya'll.

Can we please just commit to no longer asking everyone else about their baby-making?

You don't go walking around saying, "Hey, when are you going to finally get that promotion that no one is even sure you are trying for or that you even want?"

or

"Hey, when are you guys finally going to pay down that pesky credit card debt that you have never spoken to us about or that isn't really any of our business?"

or

Never mind, I won't go there.  (((something about sex)))

We don't talk about things that people may want, but are ultimately out of their control. Except when it comes to babies.   No one "tsk-tsks" because you can't seem to sell your starter home or land that dream job, but put off having a baby and you'll find more naysayers than you can shake a stick at.

I think this is a good general rule.  If you absolutely must comment about procreation, do not do so  unless you are such a close friend that you have this person's birthday memorized.

I am 100% ok with Baby Talks if you can tell me my birthday.


But don't cheat, cause' I just told you my birthday is next month.

Once, I heard a passing comment that maybe us baby-sitting Lucy would get us "on the ball" and encourage us to have a baby.

To that, I reply...

"Seriously?"

And

"Ouch."

Your words hurt, People!  They hurt!

We don't need encouragement.  We need a second source of income.  Thank you very much.

And the older I get, the more I realize how hurtful those comments can be- what if I had had a miscarriage?  What if I was struggling with infertility?

Jerks.

I'm just kidding.  No one's a jerk.  I just felt like I needed to put an insult there.

It's not really infertility.  More like UNfertility.

True?

UN-fertility.  Is there such a thing?  In this economy...in this housing market... there have got to be thousands of other women who are experiencing this...?

It is a sad & interesting place to be.

We don't have a plan anymore.  Plan A did not work out, but we certainly aren't out of letters.

Maybe I'll start to feel relieved. Maybe I'll take up macrame.  Maybe we'll get a third dog.

With that being said, today, I am 29 and 334 days old.

Tomorrow, I will be sad.

I will probably cry in the car as I am sometimes prone to do.

Not only out of sadness, but also because of that unrelenting need to surrender.

You've been there before, too?

Next month, we will celebrate.

Love,
H