Why I Waited

The issue has come up recently about why I waited until I was 41 to seriously pursue pregnancy.  It all gets very hard to put into words but I don’t think that I’ll regret the decisions I’ve made regardless of the outcome of all of this.

Honestly, I thought I’d have kids in my early 20’s. The only problem with that was that I still struggling with the concept of a real adult relationship.  I was in one that, had I been able to appreciate it, would have been an appropriate one to raise children in.  But I was too young and inexperienced and was yearning to “live” too much to settle into it.  I knew I wanted marriage and the picket fence in a nice suburb but having finally escaped my own suburban upbringing for the lights of Chicago, there was no way I could let myself just give it all up.

So I didn’t.  I ended the relationship for one with more excitement and travel and…..it was pretty much hell.  And once I got out of that one it was another 10 years before I could even speak to the guy in question. Interestingly, he still wants kids but is (1) in a relationship with a woman high up in the entertainment business who has no interest in kids at all and (2) spending most of his life traveling to crazy and exotic places – something he could never do with a child in tow.

My next two relationships were long-term but both we were with men who kept me waiting while they decided whether they wanted to grow up or not. The first actually ended when my father’s house came on the market and we started talking about buying it and pursuing parenthood.  The second ended when he met his dream girl (thankfully, because neither of us could seem to break the ties) and now has a baby but honestly, I’m glad it isn’t with me.

Then I met my husband. And our first few years, which involved international moves and clashes of culture among other things, were rocky to say the least.  It allowed me to take advantage of the socialized healthcare in the UK and have my LAP done but I doubted that I was going to stay in the UK and couldn’t stand the thought of bringing a child into a situation where I would resent him/her for keeping me tied to someplace I didn’t want to be.
Now, my husband and I are in a much better place emotionally. We’ve worked through most of our problems. We are ready to be parents. We would both be good at it and we have a plan on how to do it. But now I’m 42 and 1/2. And it may very well be too late.

Having had miscarriages my last 2 iui cycles, I have to face the thought that my eggs might just be tired and old and worn out, even if I don’t think that I am.  Does that mean that I’ve done something wrong by waiting? In my heart of hearts, I don’t think so. Even if it means a struggle now that I might not win. And perhaps that’s why I feel ready to be a parent now – because I realize that this isn’t about me but about the child that I hope to rear and guide and love. The child that I would only want the best for.