Getting pregnant...

I guess it was about two years ago now that my husband and I started to contemplate having a baby. I have to admit that I was less than eager. It wasn't that I didn’t want children, but I knew that they would change everything and I preferred to think of it as something for the future. That year, however, I was turning 30 and suddenly the future was a lot closer. Well-meaning (but also slightly interfering) friends and acquaintances would tell me not to take too long as "the clock was ticking". I probably could have held up against the pressure better, if I didn’t secretly think they were right. I wanted children and I didn’t want to be too old having them. My husband was beginning to look longingly at babies in strollers and kids in the park. We shared ownership of a three bedroom apartment with our bank. We both had stable jobs, with good salaries. We had close friends who had already taken the plunge and eager grandparents-to-be. We were ready and I had run out of excuses. So with all that in mind, one month I stopped taking the pill and decided to let nature take its course.

I quickly realized I would have to learn patience (not one of my virtues). If I’m honest, I’m used to getting what I want and having to depend completely on forces beyond my control was a new feeling. For an obsessive planner (i.e. me), not being able to plan nine months down the road “just in case” was very difficult. In addition, there was the niggling worry that maybe we weren’t meant to conceive naturally. But, as per the norm for couples in their early thirties, a few months after stopping the pill, my period was late and I was pregnant.