Despite the challenges (not to mention the economic crisis), many of the couples I know have been announcing their pregnancies. There have been e-mails and phone calls and belly shots on Facebook. My heart beats with joy, and I often break out into applause at the big baby news. I start planning on the gift I'd like to get them when the little one arrives -- something special for each. And I'm the first to comment on their online baby photos -- from the sonogram to baby's first birthday. Once the baby arrives, I can't imagine our lives, our family, without him or her.
Lately, however, these announcements have made me feel a little behind. It feels like a race. I'm almost 31 and my younger friends, or those who are the same age, are pregnant or already onto baby number two. My stomach churns with regret and worry. What if babies were not meant for me? What if I will never be the front runner in the great baby race?
These thoughts grow stronger as relatives start pounding my husband and me with the next interrogation. After the wedding is over, and they can't sweat you about that anymore, they start asking, "When are you going to have a baby?" Or "We'd love to hear the pitter patter of little feet." Or my personal favorite for it conjures the most guilt, "Aren't you going to make your parents grandparents yet?"
The race is on. You're giving it your all -- from having sex when you'd least like to do it to keeping your legs over your head for 20 minutes afterward in the hopes of helping gravity even if you know it's probably useless. And still the crowd heckles you with those dang questions. Then, your friends get pregnant and you're thrilled for them, but a little part of you withers and dies amid the applause because you're losing the great baby race. You feel even guiltier than before because you feel happy for them, but you can not help but feel disappointment for yourself. It's beyond your control. You don't even want to admit to yourself that you feel like a loser. But you do. You want to know when you'll finally cross the finish line in the great baby race.
Experts like my mom and probably yours say it's best to take yourself out of the race (or never get into it in the first place), stop trying to have a baby, relax, have sex when you want to have sex, and when you least expect it, you'll cross the finish line (assuming you don't have other medical problems, etc.). Maybe that's what the losers in the great baby race should try.
Consider this my announcement that I'm retiring from the race. I'm just going to enjoy the babies who are already on their way and continue to love my husband. If my baby never comes, that's all right, too. I'm still in the race called life -- and you can win that one with or without baby. It's up to you.