Some kind of church

Ben and I had the "come to Jesus" meeting about babies last week. And we have reached a decision.

Baby-makin' begins August 23. Well, to be fair it doesn't technically begin then, but that's the day I'm off the pill. I'm nervously excited. Or excitedly nervous. Which ever you prefer.

Unfortunately, a few days after we circled the date in pen on our kitchen calendar, Ben found out he's having ACL reconstruction surgery. Now granted, this doesn't technically affect those parts, but it will inhibit his mobility for awhile. For reproduction's sake, I'm praying for a speedy recovery.

We'll have kids... someday

Children always used to be a charming and far-off topic. Ben and I would talk about it in a very abstract, someday kind of way. "When we have kids" would just roll of the tongue to introduce some off-hand comment about work, travel or finances. It was never a reality, just an eventuality.

But all of a sudden, children are a very real concept to me. I've become the woman who follows a stroller through the mall trying to catch a peek at the sleeping infant inside. I actually linger in the Target baby aisle. I spend more time looking up baby names than I care to admit.

At 26, I know that I'm ready to have a baby. And that's scary.

These days, 26 year olds don't have babies. 26 year olds party with their friends and play drinking games. They nurse hangovers, not infants. Whereas 26 used to be old for just starting a family, 26 is now far too early to be tied down. 26 is for building your career, seeing the world and meeting new people. 26 is for staying out until bar close, not waking up for a feeding at 2:00 a.m.

Yet, here I am. 26 and ready to have a baby.

Scary.