The Truth

I'm here because my husband and I are getting ready to stop trying not to have a baby. In other words, we're going to start trying to have a baby...casually. There will be no tracking of the cycles, assessment of vaginal discharge consistencies, or taking of the temperature ten times a day. The thought of having a baby is overwhelming enough. I can't handle additional prep work. I want to do this the natural way like the girls on 16 And Pregnant: drunk in the middle of the football field. Studies have shown that a woman is at her most fertile lying on her back on the 50-yard line so that’s what we’re going to do. And if that doesn't work? Well, we'll deal with that later.

I’m not going to lie: I’m terrified of becoming a mother. Every single aspect of it. My husband has accused me of having a fear of commitment. But it's not a fear of commitment so much as it is a fear of having to be committed—to an insane asylum. Because if I have a child, then there will be another being on this planet who is directly affected by my shortcomings, and that realization is enough to make a person go crazy. I am a self-centered only child; the sun of my own neurotic universe. Tossing a baby into orbit will definitely cause the whole system to go spinning out of control. 

So why do I want to do it? Why not just decide to be one of those carefree childless couples who pass their lives traveling to exotic destinations and spending their nonexistent-offspring's college tuition on trivial luxuries like filet mignon and Porches? Um...er...good question?

Because I’ve been told that being a mother will make me a better person. And I’m selfish, so this makes me want to give it a go...  


...and I think my husband will make a really great father. 


...and I think we'd make a really cute family. 


...and it's rewarding (allegedly).


...and, maybe it's time to think about someone else other than myself for a change.