A couple weeks ago, I tweeted the following:
Now let me get this out of the way... I'm not pregnant. I waited two weeks for this post just so I could be sure when I say that I'm not pregnant. Yes I'm sure.
It seems like every time I sign into Facebook, I'm reading another announcement about some one I know popping out or about to pop out a little crotch parasite (a term of endearment I picked up from Aunt Becky) some point in the near future.
So babies have been on the brain, and for those 15 minutes until people started talking me down from the ledge, my thoughts were of the HOLY CRAP I DRANK THE WATER lines. I seriously thought I was going to end up pregnant after missing one pill. I didn't say I was rational.
It's not that DH and I won't start our own family of creation someday. But we just got married. Neither of us is ready to add a little Mochaface to the family dynamic.
So why can't I stop thinking about babies? I guess I'm at that age. You know that age. When everyone around you first gets married and then pops out wee ones.
I'm just grateful my biological clock has a snooze button. Because I've been hitting the shit out of it lately.