As most of my closest friends know, the month of July is my favorite month of the year; it’s my birthday month!
This year though, I’ve had some struggles. I’m turning 30 and not I’m not sure how I feel about that….I take that back. I know exactly how I feel about that. Crummy. I don’t know why. So far, I haven’t been able to articulate what it is about turning 30 that bugs me, but I’m not nearly as excited about my birthday as I have been, say, the past 4 years (I struggled with 25 too).
I have yet to make any plans and have urged my husband that I don’t really want anything in the way of a celebration. I have been trying to think of something to do that would appease the masses but nothing comes to mind. It’s getting late and if I don’t think of anything, it won’t happen.
I guess at the heart of it, I’m just not ready to be 30 yet. My life is unrecognizable from 20 to 29. I’m not saying that 30 is old either. But I think for me it marks something significant. I had a lot of goals in my early 20s, heck, even into my mid-20s. I have accomplished a lot. I have a wonderful husband of two and half years, an amazing son, and a job that I really love. I am still figuring out my final educational goals and how that will play into my continuing career path. But overall, I do have something to show for my tumultuous 20s.
Maybe it’s the little things. We don’t own a home yet, but that is something that I have put off for years now. It’s something too permanent for my transient ways.
Probably the biggest thing is my longing for another child. Things actually fell into place for the most part with my time frame for wanting to start on baby number 2–between 30 and 35. But we are waiting. On both of us to finish school. On a bigger place to live. On the right financial circumstances. But the truth is, neither of us wants to wait. I joke about it and he jokes that he’s scared. But then he brings it up. Babies are addicting and it’s hard to resist those feelings. My fear is that by the time we are “ready” for the second one, I’ll be too old. It’s not that early 30s is too old for most, but I am a high-risk pregnancy already, so throw in a time limit and I start to feel uneasy. Maybe by the time we are ready, my body won’t be…
I can’t put pressure on myself. Then it won’t happen. The wonderful thing about my son is that there was no pressure or waiting. He just happened when the time was right. In his own time, like he always does. It makes me smile and tear up just thinking about it. I don’t want anything forced the second time around. But the longer we wait…the more pressed for time I will feel.
Wonderful catch-22, isn’t it?
I’m trying to perk up and embrace all that has happened to lead me to my 30th birthday. I have so much to look forward to even if my little family stays at 3. Prospective and appreciation will help me celebrate and ring in the fab 30s!