The fear factor

I have a friend who is umemployed. He is delaying actually applying for any jobs, and just trying to enjoy the “break.”
I think he is scared to start applying, because he is scared he will not get hired right away. But as long as he’s not trying, there is no rejection.
While I am totally against this, and have been trying to kick his ass into gear, I think it is similar to how we girls sometimes feel about trying to get pregnant. How do you spell “pressure”? C-O-N-C-E-P-T-I-O-N.

It is scary to think about the possibility of trying for months … and having no success. The worries would be daunting. Is it me? Is it him? Will it ever happen for us? Doctors apparently don’t think it’s a problem unless you’ve been trying for more than a year, so that’s a long time to wonder.
As my good friend L pointed out the other night, it’s just like Monica and Chandler on our beloved Friends. They desperately wanted to get pregnant, and it turned out her uterus was like, attacking the eggs or something. It was totally beyond their control, but it meant it would never happen for them. Period.
To use a real-life example, one episode of Jon & Kate Plus 8 has always stood out in my mind. Kate was being interviewed about getting pregnant with Mady and Cara, and she said she always suspected she might have issues, so she wanted to start trying young — just in case. She never elaborated on why she felt that way, but she was right, and underwent fertility treatments.
While I don’t have any reason to suspect I would have trouble, it still weighs on my mind as “what if?” Once we actually start trying, even though I know it usually takes a few months, I think I will be paranoid if it doesn’t happen right away.
After so many years of being on the pill, I have no idea how easy or difficult it will be. Will I be one of those crazy-fertile person who gets knocked up on the first try? Or will I struggle with it? 
I won’t know until I try, but I hate the not-knowing …

The pill plunge

This morning, I looked long and hard at my packet of birth control pills. 

I didn’t want to take one …

Since we are planning on trying this summer, I feel like I should get off the pill soon, so I have a chance to get it out of my system. Having been on the pill nonstop for the last eight years, I am skeptical that my body will bounce back immediately. I mean, eight years of daily meds must do something lasting, right?

But going off of it now is risky — and means strict condom usage, ugh — since I can’t risk a slip-up before I need to stand in Best Friend’s wedding, five months from now.
I am so torn. I really want to get off of it now, so my chances for conceiving this summer are good. But I cannot want to get pregnant before July. I can’t risk my matron of honour dress not fitting, or puking at the altar. I can’t do that to Best Friend.
How long should you really be off the pill before TTC? Well, the experts say it will probably take three months to get your cycles back to normal. Apparently it’s not a medical thing, but just a “convenience” thing — i.e. your body might not have a regular cycle right away, which means it might take a while for you to begin ovulating.
I sat on the edge of the bed thinking about it for a good three minutes, but eventually popped one in my mouth as usual.
There’s always tomorrow …

Mom … how do I say this?

Darling Husband e-mailed me from work yesterday afternoon and said his family members are literally placing bets that we will have an April baby … yeah, exactly nine months after the Necessary Hold-off/a.k.a My Best Friend’s Wedding.
They’re not stupid.
I am finally starting to talk about my tentative plan in public … like in my real life. Have told select friends about the blog, and everyone is excited for us. It feels good to talk about something that is consuming my mind lately!
But … yes, there is a “but.”

I am scared to tell my mother.

There, I said it.

You see, throughout my life, she has always been telling me I’m too young for things. I wasn’t allowed to date until embarassingly late in my teens. She always told me I should be at least 28 before getting married, etc., etc.
When Darling Husband — well, Darling Boyfriend — proposed when I was 23, she was stunned. I mean, she was happy about it, but only relaxed after we promised a two-year engagement.
After we were married, Mom explained that if she had readily approved of a wedding at 25, we might have married at 21. So by insisting I was 28, I got married at 24 — which she agreed was actually a reasonable age.
She’s crafty, my mom.
So you can see why I’m a little worried about what she will think of our plan. I know she will be happy when it happens — like with our engagement — but until then, she will try to persuade me to wait.
I have been dropping hints, and I think she is purposely not responding to them — and not totally comfortable with the idea of her baby having a baby. And I feel like a total sneak for telling my friends before telling my own mother.
Perhaps I could get Darling Husband’s family to invite her into their baby-betting pool … and hope she doesn’t put her money on April 2015!