Oooooh Baby Baby

This past week two women I went to high school with had their first babies. Lauralee had a little girl named Grace, and Kristin had a little girl named Ella. My co-worker's twin sister had a little boy named Ian. I also have a sneaking suspicion that several of my co-workers will announce they're expecting this year. They each have one young child, and have hinted about adding to their families.

I went to a conference for three days earlier this week, and of the four of us who went, two women were breastfeeding. Clearly their children weren't with them, so they were pumping. I actually found the noise very soothing; it was rhythmic and soft. Peeking in the mini-fridge was amusing though, let's just say that. By the third day away, they missed cuddling with their babies and were homesick.

It seems like pregnancy and babies are everywhere around me. I just don't know how I feel about it. Well, I mean, I am happy for the moms of course, but I don't know how I feel about it for me. I like babies and I like puppies, and I think if you put both in front of me I would gravitate towards the dog. What is wrong with me? If anything?

Perhaps this just means I'm not ready. Maybe I'll never be ready. I just feel too old already. I am 27 1/2 years old, and I have bad knees. I have read in several sources that the risks of birth defects go up after age 30, and my mom had had three children by that age. I worry that if I go too long without having kids, I will get comfortable and never have them. I'm selfish, and I like my life and my free time- not that I do anything so wonderful with it.

I am also a control freak. I like to have everything pinned down and orderly. From what I have seen with my friend Corrie's three kids, there is rarely anything orderly about motherhood. Twenty minutes late for an appointment? Normal. Poop spattered on the wall? Par for the course. Those three boys are lively, beautiful children, but "pinned down and orderly" they are not. Not many children are.

But if I don't have kids, who will gather around my table for the holidays? Who will carry on my wild hair and my husband's green eyes? Who will take care of me when I'm old? Even those questions seem rather selfish, probably an indicator I am not ready. From what I have observed from the amazing mothers around me, having children is about the most selfless thing one can do.

I am just waiting for The Universe to smirk at this post and zap me.