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…