Call me crazy

Today on I read an article about when to have kids. Everyone seems to have their formula for the perfect time to rear a child these days including me:). I was curious so I clicked…

After reading the various opinions and talking to friends and family, ultimately I have come to this conclusion: There is no perfect time to have babies. One woman who shared my age and was without child had a litany of reasons why people should wait until their thirties to become parents. Among her reasons was that people should “see the world” and to “wait for a time when your career is lucrative enough” and on and on… this is all better than say, an unplanned pregnancy. Touche. So how is your thirties the magic age when you’re done with all of these things? Sounds suspect to me.

I would usually agree with the idea of being as ready as possible, but I’m starting to come around to the idea that you are never really ready.

After all, there is always something, isn’t there? Time, money, sacrifice, on and on and on… can you imagine a pre-birth control world? Where people just got pregnant because that’s what happens when you engage in the act of procreation? It’s all about convenience now.

Of course, I understand wanting to be in a financial position to be able to support another life… and I understand wanting to do certain things… but I am starting to think that both of these things are always a work in progress. I can’t imagine anyone looks back on their life and says “I couldn’t have used some more cash” or “I saw all I wanted to see of the world.” Well, maybe some folks do, but I don’t know them:).

All this to say, I don’t believe there is a perfect time. I can’t image you’ll ever do enough, make enough or find yourself enough in your lifetime.

Interestingly, just below that article was one about women in their thirties struggling with getting pregnant at all. So, apparently somewhere between finding yourself and losing your eggs is the perfect time to bear child. What a pickle.

Thankfully, I have an amazing little family and at 24 I know that when Emerson graduates from high school I will be a mere 41 and I will not only be able to spend the later years of my life being more active with grown kiddies, but I’ll be able to know Emerson the person longer and my grandchildren longer… things I would never trade for a salary or a trip to Rome. So for me, I guess it worked out better this way.

In the end, it would have been optimal to have been married and been more prepared for such a big life change. But with so much to think about in planning to have kids, a big part of me is glad I didn’t have the pressure of doing so… because there just isn’t a perfect time.


2 Responses to “Call me crazy”

  1. Macgyvermommy Says:

    I totally agree. Here is my latest RANT entry. I linked to you. Thanks for being my muse. We should be proud of being young mothers.

  2. Terry Diane Says:

    You have done much in your young age, not the least, you have seen Rome, right? 🙂 🙂 Luv your Mama.

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