I mean, it was bad when I was planning my wedding. Now that we are thinking about kids, I pin everything that has to do with pregnancy, babies, conception, and trying to conceive. I even have pins for their imaginary outfits and the imaginary pictures we will take together.
And the information! If you don't know much about fertility like I didn't, there's information. There's information about information. My naturally curious self is like a kid in a candy store. I can't stop!
I think I should, though.
The nice thing about being in your 30s is that you can have great self-awareness. I know me. I'm like an old movie I've seen everyday for 36 years. I know exactly how this ends. My one-track mind suddenly can't get enough about a topic. I research until I'm doing loops around the Internet. Then, it slowly becomes all I think about until I develop a burdensome desire that reaches this insane level that makes you think:
I've seen me do it before. Let's not. Not this time. There's got to be a better way.
At the beginning of the year, we decide what we'd like to see happen and set aside time to pray very specifically. In the baby arena, I ask for one thing this year, "easy, natural conception." Because I know. I know I'll look at fertility by age and start to freak out that my prime years are behind me. I know, if it is a matter of charting, I will OCD my calendar into the ground so that every second of my cycle and all the symptoms therein are documented. I can take my basal temperature every day, get weird about my diet, attack my husband during ovulation time then spend the afterglow upside down (thank you, yoga). This is true to form of my selectively Type A personality. The weird woman inside my head that wants the baby is like a cheerleader yelling, "Be aggressive! B-E aggressive!"
But I don't want to do that -- any of that. Call me crazy, but I want to conceive peacefully, naturally, almost quietly.
When I think about wanting children, I see myself in a somewhat familiar place. See, I waited a long time to find the right guy, and I sat in that proverbial waiting room for years in every emotional state available. Bitter, angry, demonstrative, declarative, hopeful, passive, timid, reckless and often quite bored. If I knew then what I know now--that he'd just show up one day when I least expected him without any effort on my part-- I'd give myself the advice that I could never understand until today. I wouldn't say, relax. I'd say, rest. Have a heart at rest. The emotional roller coaster and "25 Ways to Get Married in 2008" are pointless. Just enjoy life now and trust God. Believe!
So, I'm going to stop, breathe, and pray that when the baby dust fall my way, that it finds me with an open hand full of grace, not a clenched fist. I know what want, but luckily I can say with certainty I already have everything I need. Regardless of my circumstances, I will live these days in peace and joy. I think that's what future me would want.