Posted by: perchancetodream | September 24, 2007

Running to Stand Still

Age is a funny thing. I vaguely remember one of my parents telling me that time goes faster as you get older. It didn’t make sense to me until I hit my mid-30’s. Now, having past 40, time goes so fast that I seem at a loss to find a way to document it; to hold on to it.

I look younger than I am and up until recently would still get carded every once in a while. I don’t miss that. The hard part is that inside, I’m very much who I was when I was 16. I’m proud of that fact; proud that I haven’t let the horrible things that life can throw at you, change my general outlook and personality.

I am an only child. The oldest grandchild on one side and the only one on the other. I grew up being far more comfortable on my own or around adults than around kids and it wasn’t until high school that I really found a group of friends my own age. Even in college, I was frequently shocked by the immature behavior of some of my peers.

The problem is – when you’re a serious kid, there is nowhere to go from there. Nothing to grow up into. Because you are unable to see this progression in yourself (aside from on the calendar), you never really feel like you’re “growing up”. Which makes you feel like you have all the time in the world.

That’s pretty much the kiss of death when you’re talking about fertility. As technology advances, women are having children when they are older and older. But for every one of those women who are successful, how many fail?

I was in college when I first had sex. Two close male friends (both of whom I’m still friends with) played floor hockey outside my door that night, just to make sure that I was okay….that sounds odd to read but it was appropriate and touching and representative of the types of friends that I want.

These same two friends drove me, a few weeks later, to planned parenthood when my period was late and I was scared that I was pregnant. I’ve never been a fan of needles and as the nurse went to draw the blood, I murmured under my breath “this is the cost…this is the cost…” The test was negative and I went on the pill for about 12 years before following my gut instinct that they weren’t really preventing anything that my body wasn’t preventing anyhow and went off them.

But for all the time we spend, when young, being terrified of a positive, I wonder if there isn’t some sort of cosmic wheel that balances out all of these times that we pray for the second line on the stick….

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