It’s Not a Race

I’ve been feeling a little down lately and it’s entirely my doing. Instead of keeping secret the fact that we’re now in the family planning stage I spilled the beans to everyone (I’m horrible at keeping secretes). I’m not even sure why I did this. Perhaps I figured the more people who knew the easier it would be? Or that I wouldn’t have to field the question “When is your turn for kids?” with all of our friends and family. Instead of making it easier, though, it’s made it harder. Now that everyone knows we’re trying we instead hear, “Are you pregnant yet?” and having to answer “No” each time is just as awful as it sounds.

I did know that there was a chance that it would take more than one magical night to get pregnant, but I hoped that we’d be lucky like so many of our friends have been in the past. That our first month trying would end nine months later with a happy and healthy baby. So each month that goes by I feel like more of a failure, which is silly. Pregnancy isn’t a contest. Just because someone gets their first doesn’t mean that we won’t get there eventually and it certainly won’t take away from our excitement when it does happen.