Pressure.  Familiar with it?  I am.  I put it on myself all.the.time.  For the last, oh, year, I’ve been in this “do we/don’t we” place about a 3rd baby.  In the deepest parts of my heart I do want a baby…yes, of course I want a baby.  I want to meet that 5th member of our family.  Some days I ache for that sweet baby smell.  More often though, I am treading water.  The ocean of motherhood threatens to swallow me up – and I wonder how in the world I can parent another child when I feel as though I’m failing with the two that I already have. Today, I was thinking.  Putzing around my house after drop-off – no agenda, just me.  And the cat.  And an empty, quiet house.    I realized I was going over a pro/con list in my head.  And it went something like this: Squishy new baby skin.  Pro. Lack of sleep.  For like, a long time.  Con. The excitement of a new beginning – a life.  An addition to our family.  Pro. Having more independence in our grasp.  Ella potty-training sometime this year (hopefully), both girls learning how to dress themselves, fix their own dinners, do their taxes.  Pro?  For waiting, yes. 9 months wine-free.  Definitely Con. A 2 year old just starting to figure out her place in the family – and then having to adjust to this teeny being that’s come to take her place as the “baby” (been here, done this, not sure I recommend – 2 years apart can be ROUGH)…Con. And as I’m thinking and weighing and thinking some more – I remembered what I said to Vann a week ago, “I’m so sick of talking about this.  If we’re going to do it, let’s just pull the trigger already!!” Huh. Does THAT sound like a good reason to have a baby?? No, no it doesn’t. Here’s the deal – I’ve been coming up with all kinds of excuses: “Well, we really don’t want to have another car payment this year.” “I definitely don’t want to be sick on my birthday.” “Maybe we should take that trip to Canada.” “Yeah, I’m just not at my goal weight yet.” “I’m turning 34 in March.” “I really want things to stabilize around here.” Etc… Etc… As my mind is churning I get in the car and head up to school to pick up the girls.  I call Vann.  A: “I know we keep going back and forth but I really think that XYZ yada yada yada…” V: Pause.  “What I’m hearing, is that maybe you’re just not ready.” A: Pause. V: “Am I wrong?” A: Pause.  “No.”   And it’s like the light bulb in my brain went CLICK.  Because I’ve been masking my true feelings with all of these excuses – and whether they’re valid or not – I really need to call it what it is and say it…out loud… I’M NOT READY.  Age be damned.  In my mind I’ve had this “end-point” to pregnancies – 35.  The “scary” number.  Don’t tell me you haven’t thought it too (and you know I mean no disrespect to my friends who have had sweet, precious babies after 35) but 35 is the “scary” number.  “Advanced Maternal Age.”  Isn’t that what they call it?? I’ve been putting all kinds of pressure on myself to figure out this baby thing before I hit my scary number.  My personal scary number.  It doesn’t have to be YOURS.  But it is MINE.  And here’s what – in all this worry and fretting over my scary number – I’m forgetting the JOY that’s involved in wanting to have a baby in the first place. The bottom line is that we should have a 3rd baby when we are so excited we just can’t wait any longer.  When we know that the time is right.  Because truly, it is all ordained by God anyway, isn’t it?  I mean, isn’t it really just about giving it to Him and waiting on His timing??  After Vann and I talked I realized something else…when we ultimately decided to table this discussion – really, table it fully – for 6 months, well, I felt… Relieved.  Yep.  I said it. I breathed a big sigh of relief.  Oh, Good Lord, THANK YOU. Because I’m not ready.  Bottom line.  If I weren’t so worried about my scary number I would say we’re waiting a year and leave it at that.  Well…who’s to say that still can’t be true?  I still feel like our family isn’t complete.  But I’m over trying to make it all happen in MY timing. Stick it, scary number.  I’m over you and all of your stupid pressure.  Move along.  Nothing to see here.