I’m back off of the baby train today. I had dinner with a friend who shall remain nameless last night and somehow got into the topic with her. She was nice about it, but was a little too encouraging and I could see the look behind her eyes. “The Look” is what I’m calling that “Ha ha I knew you’d change your mind,” triumph in the eyes of elders and other parents that I have experienced lately in both her, older women I respect and admire, and others. I can’t stand it.
I'm pretty proud of the fact that I generally know my own mind. Scott and I were very serious when we sat down in 1997 to discuss this baby thing. We had only been dating for a year at that point, but we knew we were going to end up married and together, and we behaved accordingly, consulting one another about all future plans. We were 100% sure neither of us would ever have children, but we knew enough to know that we were too young to make that decision permanent.
By 2000 we were even more sure we wouldn't have children and even consulted a doctor about Scott having a vasectomy. Thank goodness we made a deal to wait and discuss it when we turned 30. So there was always a chance that we would change our minds. We allowed for that possibility ourselves. It comforts me to know that I had enough sense to build that in at least.
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