The Benefits of Waiting

a blog by Liz

The husband knew I wanted kids all along. There was no option. (Ok, I say ‘all along’ but I didn’t lay this on him on the first date, or we wouldn’t be here today).

We got together when we were 18 so there was no time pressure. By 25 I wanted to know when we would start thinking about having children (not that I wanted one right then but I wanted some kind of plan). He was still petrified … but we struck a deal. We’d have a kid when I was 30.

We’d get sorted first. I’d get a few more rungs higher on the career ladder – check. We’d get sorted financially – yup (after a fashion). We wouldn’t be the only folk amongst our group of friends with kids – not by a long shot. Then we’d go for it.

Admittedly, he had been somewhat under duress when we agreed to 30 as our procreation date, but at the time, 30 seemed sooooo old. To him it was an easy promise to make, and I thought I’d tied him down to a date.

Of course I hadn’t counted on my dear, dear boy being pretty cunning.

I saw the “Have a Kid at 3o Plan" as meaning we could dispense with contraception nine months before my 30th, whilst he decided it was start when we turned 30 (he is 6 weeks older than me) so we compromised. We’d start the bareback jiggling on his birthday when I was just teetering on the cusp of 30 aged 29.

And then he pulled his masterstroke. He went and proposed in December, a mere six months before our official start date. And we decided we didn’t want a summer wedding (mainly because he is Scottish thus would be wearing a kilt and he didn’t fancy having nine yards of wool wrapped round his waist mid-summer).

He convinced me that I didn’t want to get pregnant before the wedding (well, it would make dress fittings a nightmare if I was constantly changing shape). So we postponed starting our attempts at conception until after our wedding in November. By which time, unless I had an instant pregnancy followed by a premature baby, I’d be at least 31 by the time I’d have a kid. But I was cool with that. What is 30 but an arbitrary number anyway?

More than two years later -- not a sniff of a pregnancy – and I’m kicking myself we didn’t start earlier. But it has had its advantages.

At the start, the husband freely admitted that if he found out I was pregnant he’d be petrified. Though he assured me (somewhat unconvincingly) that he’d be pleased, his overriding emotion would be one of absolute terror. Now, he is as keen as I am to get a bun in the oven.

So that is the silver lining to the waiting game.

Have you found taking a while to get pregnant does have some advantages?