Caring for a sick child can be incredibly draining, like giving too much blood and then feeling dizzy and faint. I don’t remember agreeing to give this much of myself. I’m kidding! I do.
It was Christmas morning, back in 2001. I remember it clearly and vividly. Mike and I woke up in the guest room at his parents’ house. We were there celebrating the season. Back then we traveled for every holiday. We were living in Indianapolis, so it was a bit closer. I was enrolled in graduate school, and planning on a May 2002 graduation. My biological clock had been ticking loudly for at least six months.
I had been rolling the idea of offspring around in my head, mildly discussing it with Mike. But we weren’t on the same page, and I must admit that is an important little nugget to keep in mind when planning a family.
I wasn’t yet completely convinced that I was ready. But that morning, that Christmas morning when I woke up, I knew I was ready. I turned to Mike and said, and I quote, “I’m done planning kids around my life, I’m ready to plan my life around kids.” And with that declaration, I also agreed to give as much of myself as needed, when needed. Despite of, and yet because of, the weepy, whiny, teary, snotty, clingy, picky and feverish moments of our lives.