All my life, I wanted to be done having kids by 30. This is why I talked my apprehensive husband into letting me stop birth control at 23. I wanted 4 children and expected to spend my twenties barefoot and pregnant.
As infertility reared its ugly head, I became nervous about my “done at 30” goal. It’s seemed possible I wouldn’t be done by 30 after all.
Then, as years went by, I started to become worried I wouldn’t have even started by the time I was 30. For someone with my background, culture, and life goals, this thought was devastating. How could I reach age 30 without even starting (what I hoped would be) my medium-sized family??? (Yes, 4 kids is medium for Mormons, even in today’s world.)
This fear became greater as the birthdays clicked by… 26… 27…28…29… I just knew I would not survive turning 30 without becoming a mother first. But I couldn’t stop the clock.
Finally, my 30th birthday came. I was not a mother. I was not pregnant. I had no adoption profile.
I got up, got ready, and went about my day.
In short, I survived.
The earth did not swallow me up in misery and total despair. I had a regular day. In fact, I had a nice day. And life went on.
Today I turn 31. I had hoped beyond hope that I would be a mother by today.
But I still got up, go ready, and went about my day.
I survived. :)