Friday, October 4, 2013

Rotting Eggs

I sat on the table this morning, paper rustling beneath me, awaiting the doctor with my hands clasped in my lap. My hands were clammy, and my heart was beating quickly. 

It was time I faced what I had been fearing so intently for the past year. The reason my eyes well up when I realize that I'm turning 30 in five months: I'm afraid that I'm running out of time to have children. 

I didn't even know I wanted them, to be honest. It wasn't until I realized that all of my friends are getting married and having babies that I really started to look at my own life and think about what I wanted. 

K and I have talked about getting married and having kids, quite seriously actually. But we're not ready YET. 

But here I was, having to ask the question that I feared getting the answer to: how long do I have left? 

She answered me with a straight face, while I fidgeted and avoided eye contact. Many women are having children from 35 into their forties these days, she told me. You have plenty of time. And while 35 is considered a high risk pregnancy, it basically just means you have to go in for more tests than younger women.

My shoulders sank as I breathed a huge sigh of relief. All of the fears that I had built up over the past year left my body, as I realized that I still could have everything that I wanted: my career, a wedding, and to plan my family with K when WE are ready, not based on some biological clock race. Because eff that shiz. We have plenty of time to embrace growing up, but today? Today is Friday, and I have a 12-pack of Shipyard Pumpkinhead to drink while we watch the series finale of Boston Legal on Netflix.

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