Conception

Craig and I got married when I was 30. At my wedding a friend congratulated me and immediately gave me a piece of bitter yet heartfelt advice: if we weren't going to have kids right away, I should freeze my eggs for later use. Married in her later 30s, she had been unable to conceive, and she hoped to spare me the same grief. I admit that although I felt sorry for her, I found her advice meddlesome and irrelevant. I didn't know yet whether I wanted children, but I was certain I had plenty of time left to decide.

The women of my extended family like to think of themselves as being exceptionally fertile and remaining fertile well into their 40s. I know I always believed the family legend to be true. And no doubt there's some truth to it, but I wanted to point out publicly that it took us five months to conceive Laurel.

Not only did it take five months, but it was five months of careful fertility tracking. Once you're past 35 you're supposed to seek medical advice after six unsuccessful months of trying, but as I recall I don't think I had begun to worry about infertility yet. I was certainly obsessed with getting pregnant, but I never lost confidence that it was going to happen. Maybe it was foolhardy faith in the family legend.

In fact, Laurel was conceived exactly one year ago today, when I was 38 years old. But it's not always easy getting pregnant. Sometimes it isn't even possible. I'm grateful that even though we somewhat recklessly delayed our entry into parenthood, everything worked out easily for us -- twice! I feel very lucky.

- - - - -

Conceiving Isaac when I was 35, on the other hand, was much easier -- a one-shot deal, in fact.