So I don't know if this happens to bloggers who post on the regular, but I've started coming up with ideas for blogs as I lie in bed at night, trying to fall asleep.
Last night I thought about the forum I recently joined since I became pregnant, it's a forum for pregnant women, and you can join the forum specific to the month you are due.
I am due in June, so I am in the June mommas club.
The other day, one of the gals mentioned something about feeling really old and how she felt like she was the oldest one of the bunch. Thinking to myself, there is no way she can be the oldest, because I DEFINITELY feel like the oldest in that group. She mentioned she was turning 28. I told the group I was 32 going on 33. My thoughts were confirmed. I am the oldest.However, the youngest in this group is 18, as far as I know. Which got me to thinking about age and how it's just a number and what does it all mean?
At 18, I remember starting college, being away from home for the very first time. Life was an adventure, the world was at my feet. I went through many transitional phases in college and learned a lot about who I was. Could I have raised a child at that age? Sure. Was I mentally prepared for that challenge? Not at all. After college I moved back home for awhile, interning in Chicago and hoping for a full-time job so I could move out there. At 23, I finally had enough money saved after living with my parents to put down a deposit on an apartment and move out to the big city. Soon after that, my boyfriend (now husband) moved in with me and all was right with the world. Soon after September 11th, I lost my full time job at the show where I was working and the world felt incomplete and uncertain. Knowing that at 24, I still had a lot of opportunities ahead of me, I trudged on, looking towards the future for what lies ahead. I ended up getting my job back (a different position was offered and it was much better than the one I had previously) and I ended up staying there until 2003, or age 26. After the show ended, I worked a few odd jobs here and there, freelancing in the city but something felt incomplete. I didn't feel right moving from job to job, I wanted something more substantial and steady without having to work 12-16 hour days on a shoot. It was about this time that I started feeling restless (not in a bad way) in my relationship with my boyfriend. I knew I wanted to get married someday, but when? I always told Matt that I wanted to get my career in check and have something to be proud of before I took that leap. And if I didn't always say it directly, he definitely knew it. It wasn't until one night when we were watching The Bachelor when I made a comment about how we'd probably never get married, huh? That was all it took. Matt knew right away that it was time, and while he had been ready and willing all along, it was me who was dragging my feet, waiting for all these imaginary ducks to file in a row. So, at 27, we took the leap and tied the knot.
After that I started a new career in advertising and really started to feel that things were aligning for me. After working my way up the ladder and landing a decent position, Matt's job was also going good and we were starting to really settle into life in the big city with having a little bit more money in our pockets to spend. I knew that one day we would probably start a family, but I was in no hurry. I never had a feeling like, I might be 30 soon, I better do this! It wasn't until soon after 30 that I started seriously thinking about where this was all going. After Matt and I got back from Paris we started talking about it a bit more and trying to figure out when a good time might be to start a family. In Sept. of 2008 I lost my job and more thoughts of "Where is this all going?" ensued. I don't know when the light bulb finally clicked for me that you don't need to "have it all" to actually live by that philosophy, but when I pictured our lives together, I always saw them eventually with children by our sides. Thinking about growing old with no memories of raising a family made me feel sad. So when we finally started trying I knew that this was right, and while it may not have been the ideal right time and perfect moment in our lives, would there ever be?
Which brings me back to the women on the forum.
I don't know their life stories or what made them decide they were ready to raise a family, and at what age. But know for me, 18, 24, 26, those times were not right for me. All the living I did and experiences I have had, have shaped me up to this point. While someone else might have thought 22 was the ideal age to "grow up" and be a parent, for another, they might have needed to tour around with rock bands, go to Europe, have a few amazing jobs and go away to Vegas on a whim. It doesn't make me any less deserving or sincere that I'm the oldest in the group, or that I want this any less. Maybe it just means that my children will just have to sit through more stories of what Mommy and Daddy's lives were like before they were born. Lord knows I have a million saved up and ready to be told.... :)