These days, it seems every decision I make centers around our hypothetical, unborn, not-yet conceived children.

The house we’re looking to buy:  How many bedrooms does it have?  What is the backyard like?  How good is the town’s school system?

Before we learned we were having trouble conceiving, I went as far as buying loose, flowy shirts that I thought would make a good transition between regular clothes and maternity wear.

I even found myself commenting to my husband the other day: you know that extra dresser in the second bedroom?  We should paint it and put new knobs on it, because it would work great for a nursery.

You know, the nursery. For the child we haven’t yet conceived, in that house we haven’t yet bought.  Am I completely delusional, or just a very good, very obsessive meticulous planner?

I haven’t gone as far as pinning ideas to a “nursery” board on Pinterest—yet; and there are now locked boards if I want to secretly give in to the obsession—when we are still many steps away from having a baby.

But is all this thinking and planning healthy or self-destructive?  I haven’t decided which.  Sometimes, it helps make me feel a little bit closer to our goal if I make decisions I know will benefit our future kids.  It helps me feel hopeful that there will, in fact, be future kids.  Other times, it seems I’m setting myself up for a letdown.  Those cute, fashionably flowy shirts I bought last Spring and Summer are taunting me from my closet, a reminder that another season may come and go before they have a chance to be worn for their original intent.

It’s tough to have a baby on the brain when the rest of your body doesn’t follow suit.  Maybe I’ll just feed into the obsession and start that Pinterest board after all…

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