Why am I including a random picture of flowers? Because there is no way to illustrate “wanting to have a baby” without including a random baby or disembodied pregnant bellies. You’re welcome.

I am thirty years old, and my husband and I are trying to have a baby.

This is a terrifying thing to put in print for the universe. Or the google-search bots, that I’m sure are already sending me diaper ads.

As I have been mentally adjusting to this “trying to have a baby,” one of the things I have found is how isolating it can be.

Now, for the record, there are really good reasons that I haven’t just announced to everyone that I know that we are considering creating another human being in the near future. For one, it makes people think of sex–for some people that is the only thing it makes you think of–like please stop raising your eyebrow like that at me. For some people, who I’m close to, I haven’t talked about it because I don’t want to get their hopes up if it takes awhile (Ahem, sorry Mom). And then there are issues around employment and what will happen on maternity leave, that means I’d prefer not to have this conversation with people where I work until things are more certain.

But the things is that this is a hugely major life change and transition–a change that is irreversible and hugely change a person’s life for the next several decades. And along with the excitement, there are feelings like “terror” and “what the hell are we thinking.” Plus the exhausting idea of entering the fear-pressure-chamber that is the expectations of female parenting–yeah, that will be fun… And in my searching for a community or information that connects to this current stage of life, I’m discovering that the options seem to be:

a) cutsified acronym-based information that doesn’t respect a person’s intelligence (I’m looking at you “What to Expect Before You’re Expecting”)
b) driven acronym-based websites, that focus on exactly how to time intercourse for optimal fertilizing. The single-eyed focus of “how to get sperm in at right time and wait for pregnancy test”–well they tend to fuel a certain type of crazy in a person. And don’t reflect much on the “why” or “what this means”
c) terrifying feminist literature. Now don’t get me wrong, I love a good feminist read. But Naomi Wolf’s Misconception should be read only with caution if you are in a delicate state.

So here’s my attempt to avoid acronyms and find names. How can I name this moment between what I have known and what is coming next?

So Hello! Anyone else out there with me?

photo credit: seyed mostafa zamani via photopin cc