My best friend called me today to tell me she is pregnant. She is exactly 25 days younger than me, which makes her 37. And…she is not all that excited about having a baby when she already has a 16 year old and a 12 year old at home. She thought she was done with the late night feedings and the early morning diaper blowouts.
In a way, I can identify…I cried when I found out I was pregnant with Abby. It wasn’t tears of joy at first. It was tears of “Oh my, what have I gotten myself into now?” Overweight, out of shape, close to middle age tears. It was selfishness on my part…plain unadulterated selfishness. And then I remembered a day five years before when one of my babies went to Heaven.
I snapped out of my self-induced pity party almost instantly. And I wished I could take away those initial feelings of disappointment I had when I found out I was pregnant with Abby.
By the time we hung up, my friend was feeling better, even laughing. After all, middle age pregnancy is quite possible the only time you can wake up with a sleep-induced injury.