by the way ...

I turned 25 last week. Twenty-five. That’s a quarter of a century! It’s kind of strange. I feel old, but still so young all at the same time. Since I was a little girl I kind of always had this idea that I would get married shortly after graduating college, and have my first baby at 25. Well, the first part somehow came true … we’ll see about the second!

I am a planner, to the very core of my being. No matter what stage of life I’m at, I’m always planning the next. In college when my husband and I were dating, I was so enamored with weddings that I was convinced I wanted to be a wedding planner. Then I planned my own wedding. And suddenly my interest in weddings vanished.

So it only makes sense that I have been planning my pregnancy since the first day we got home from our honeymoon. My dear husband on the other hand, has not. Most likely he has only thought about it three times during the last 2 ½ years we’ve been married – and that’s because I brought it up. (Actually that’s probably not true, he’s just as excited to have kids someday as I am – emphasis on ‘someday.’) He just hasn’t spent the time thinking about it that I have.

We absolutely adore being married. We love living life together, traveling, spontaneous planning, sleeping in on Saturdays … You get the picture – we’re fully enjoying being in our mid-twenties and not being responsible for anyone other than ourselves.

So the question for the last few months has been, “Do we or do we not end our perfectly, self-centered lives by adding a sweet bundle of joy to the mix?”

Just before Christmas I finished my current 3-month supply of ‘the pill’, and since we had a romantic getaway planned to Phoenix over New Years, I mentioned to my dear husband that this would be a perfect time to ‘remove the goalie.’ He wasn’t as convinced as I was, so we agreed that I would pick up a 1-month supply of ‘the pill’ and we would talk more about it over the next four weeks.

Well life is busy and the next four weeks come and go and, you guessed it, we didn’t talk about IT. So on January 16th I take my last pill of the pack and summon the courage to bring it up again. Still he is hesitant. And the LAST thing I want is to jump into something so monumental if we BOTH aren’t ready. So I wait a few more days. Then Sunday comes, the day I should start a new pack. The one that is still sitting at the pharmacy. But our favorite NFL team is in the Division Championship game! This hasn’t happened for like 10 years. Yup, no baby talk today.

Monday night, at 11:02 pm, we’re lying in bed and I suddenly turn to him with a goofy smile – not wanting to push the subject, but also needing direction. But he can read me like a book, so of course he knows exactly what I’m thinking about. He’s not thrilled with my ‘timing’ of bringing it up, but then again when would be a good time? But it’s just too much of a decision to make at this time of night. So we talk about it again, pray about it together, and decide to sleep on it and make a decision tomorrow.

Tuesday comes and goes.

Wednesday comes and goes.

What can I say. We have busy lives.

Thursday we have dinner plans with friends at their new house. They have been married four years, and have a 20 month old little girl. I walk in the door and she immediately asks me, “Up? Ok.” and starts playing with my necklace the minute she’s in my arms. My heart melts.

She stays in my arms throughout the entire house tour. She eventually goes to bed and we eat dinner. The conversation briefly turns to baby talk, and just as quickly turns to other topics. We talk and laugh the night away. Suddenly its past midnight, and we need to get going home – we all have to go to work in the morning.

On the way home we talk about how fun it was to reconnect with our friends, and how adorable their ‘new’ 1920’s German style house is. Then he does it. He quietly says that little sentence I’ve been waiting months to hear.

“By the way, let’s have kids.”

And all I can do is smile.