Secret Babes

My “Babes” board on Pinterest.

One of the downfalls of not sharing the exciting, exhausting news that you’re trying to have a baby is that no one knows you’re trying to have a baby. And that is ALL my brain can think about.

I can’t talk about cervical mucus (ew, actually maybe that is a good thing). I have to hide the pink basal thermometer when I spend the night at my sisters. I cannot Pin the million little fox dolls, adorable outfits, cribs, strollers, and babies I am finding all over the web (seriously Pinterest, help a sister out and make your boards private). I cannot explain why I know that babies don’t have kneecaps or my sudden interest in natural deliveries.

I can’t tell people to shove off when they start putting the pressure on. I can’t say “Well, I would like to have one NOW, but obviously that isn’t happening so leave me alone” in response to “When are you guys going to procreate?”

I can’t giddily talk about the chances of this month, or what it would mean to have a January baby (a girl), or plan baby showers.

But I can share all the pain, frustration, excitement, elation, pure happiness with a very, very select few. And that makes it worth it.

It’s exciting. It’s what nature intended. Knowing I was ovulating this month put a total excitement factor into everything. And even if it doesn’t stick this month, I’ve had time to dream about having our oldest child the same month as my birthday. Dreaming about said baby being a girl (because in our family, the eldest girl is almost ALWAYS born in January). Dreaming about a September baby shower. Dreaming about holding my first baby in less than 40 weeks. Dreaming of Jon becoming a father. Of Jon holding our baby. OUR genes. Half his and half mine.

And so while it can be exhausting when you’re secretly trying, it can be exciting. It is something for Jon and I to dream about before bed. It is something for me to tell one or two special people, and for them to be so excited for me, crossing their fingers and wishing me good sex. It’s fun to hear people talk about how much they are looking forward to us deciding to have a baby, without adding the oh-so-present pressure, and to know in my head that it could be sooner than they’re expecting.

It’s a secret, and sometimes secrets are fun. And from now on, when asked when we’re going to have babies, my answer will be: Nine months after I get pregnant.

xoxo, Mallory

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