I don't know.

I feel as if I've been punched in the head. I feel like there's another man pretending to be my husband. I feel as if someone is playing a joke on me. After 4 months of trying to conceive, after my period came 2 weeks late last month, my husband comes to me and says, "I have to tell you something, but I'm afraid because I know it's going to make you very mad." Whoooooooosh... My breath escapes me. I stare at him and wait. He says, "I don't think I'm ready to have a baby." I don't think that I responded. I remember thinking that people have heard worse news, but at the same time I didn't take him seriously so it didn't seem so Earth-shattering. "He is just scared and nervous," I thought, "but we'll talk and he will get over it." It's been 3 days now, and we've talked, and we've fought, and I've cried, and still he says that he's not ready. I feel very confused and sad, but mostly I feel anger toward him for letting me invest so much feeling and desire into this, only to take it away. I don't know why he let it go so far. I don't know why he's not ready. I don't know where to go from here.

Allergies

In the past two weeks, I've learned of three people that I know becoming pregnant by accident. It makes me so angry. Here we are planning our lives around trying to conceive, and these people are just haphazardly getting knocked up! I used to pity these people. I used to shake my head and say to myself, "That's too bad." Now I think something more along the lines of, "Damn it. Hurry up in there!" while looking at my stomach. But honestly, I don't understand how half these people are getting pregnant "by accident". Are they allergic to birth control?

Fashionably Late, Or Not Coming At All?

The first month we tried to get pregnant, we didn't. I was sad and disappointed, and that honestly surprised me. It surprised me because I didn't really expect to get pregnant after only trying for one month, and it surprised me because I didn't realize that I could actually want this MORE. Another thing that surprised me is that a little part of me felt like my body failed me. I felt like, "Okay, I did everything I was supposed to do, so why aren't you working?!?" Which, I know, is just so crazy to feel after only one month. This month finally came and we "tried" again. I took a pregnancy test 3 days before my missed period and it was negative. Sad and disappointed again. Now, 3 days later, I'm supposed to have started my period, and it's still not here. I am trying so hard not to get my hopes up... Since I took the test 3 days early, it's only about 82% accurate. I'm forcing myself to wait until tomorrow before I buy another test. Ugh! The worst part is the 12 days between "trying" and getting your period. It's torture! I can never wait until my missed period, so I spend $10 on a pregnancy test every month (which still may not be right!). We'll see...

Guess What?

So, I'm off the pill. I've been on some form of birth control since my husband and I started dating, which was when I was about 16 years old. Popping that little pink pill everyday became mechanical, I was like a birth control robot. I've taken approximately 21 little pink pills per month for the past 8 years... so about 2,016 pills. And now, zilch. It feels so strange that I actually get butterflies whenever I think about it. I'm not taking my birth control ON PURPOSE. Anyway, I just went off of them so we haven't actually started "trying" yet. For the past week my husband and I have been repeating the same conversation. It goes like this:
Me: "Guess what?"
Him: "What?"
Me: "I didn't take birth control today."
Him: "Why not?"
Me: "Because we're gonna have a baby!"

It's dorky, this I am aware of. We're just so excited, and actually saying the words out loud is such a rush. We're gonna have a baby!

The Most Important Thing

I feel like I've wanted to be a mother all my life. When my sister was 2 and I was 4, I would try to scare her in order to make her cry. When she cried, she was vulnerable and she needed me. I would hug her, console her, and make everything better again because, in my egocentric 4 year old mind, that's what it meant to be a mother. I thought that was the most important thing my mother did for me, and I wanted to be that important to someone too. Now, twenty years later, I know that motherhood is about more than kissing ow-ies and hugging away tears. But I still believe that that's a significant part of it, and I still long to be that person to someone.
My husband and I are patient people. We waited until after college to get engaged. We waited until after graduate school to get married. Because we met very young, it was sometimes hard to be patient, especially after the hundredth, "When are you guys going to get married already?!". But we waited because it was important to us, as a married couple, to be financially independent from our parents. I feel that we've been very responsible, and I'm proud of that. However, motherhood is something I'm having a hard time being patient for. I adore children. In the past, I've worked with children and have been asked by 4 and 5 year olds on numerous occasions, "Can I call you Mommy?"(When children spend 6+ hours a day with a caring woman, it's bound to happen). I always replied with something like, "You have a Mommy who loves you, and I think she'd be sad if you called someone else Mommy. I want you to call me by my name because we're such good friends." But it always made me secretly happy, and it always made me think, "Wouldn't that be nice...", and I'm almost positive that's weird.
I'm ready to be a mother, and I know I'll be a damn good one. But part of me, the patient and responsible part, won't stop nagging me with advice and questions. "You don't own a house yet, you know. Does your husband want this as much as you do? It's not all Disney movies and pajamas with feet, you know. Are you trying to grow up too fast? I know how much you like to sleep, you can forget about that!" I don't have all of the answers to all of the questions I ask myself... But can I give a child the home and the love that it deserves? The answer is yes. And now I know that THAT'S the most important thing my mother did for me.