Timing isn’t always everything

I’ve decided that the more pregnant ladies and parents I meet, the more I believe that there really is no good time to have a baby – the plus side of which means there’s really no bad time to have a baby either.  Babies happen.  Kinda like natural disasters.

My situation has been pretty mild – sure, nobody plans to change jobs three times while gestating but everything has worked out better than had I stayed put (not that I could, being I gave notice to job No. 1 a week before I found out I was pregnant, but you get the point).  I have a friend who is due the month her husband is in training for his new job, so despite having been pregnant in Virginia and their pending move to Chicago, the kid’s going to be born in NYC while mom and dad are living in a hotel.  Or the story I recently heard over dinner of the couple who met up for R&R for one weekend in Dubai while he was serving in Iraq and low and behold, they are now expecting their second child.  He won’t be able to see his wife again until after the baby is born.  My accountant’s wife’s mother passed away a mere month after their first child was born – which was both a hardship and a comfort in a time of grief.  And don’t get me started on the number of women in my yoga class that seem to think 8 months pregnant is the perfect time to move, those poor souls.   

And then there are the folks who plan everything perfectly.  And it always seems like fate just wants to fuck with them, doesn’t it?  They already have the house, the extra cash stowed away in a bank account, the perfect childcare plan, the stable jobs, and then the fertility gods decide to go on hiatus.  Who decided that it should be completely impossible for getting and being pregnant to go smoothly?  If there is some life lesson in this, I refuse to acknowledge it. 

I’ve been thinking about this recently because a dear friend of mine is on the verge of miscarriage.  She had been trying to get pregnant and then decided to put things on hold as she started a new job, so of course the fertility gods decided it was the opportune time to grant her a zygote.  And now that she’s decided that, timing be damned, she’s ready, those same fickle deities are ready to welsh.

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