Ticking Over the Old-dometer Next Week

I turn 39 next week. Getting here matters way more than adding up the years it took to do it. I have been trying to come up for clever ideas to reply to the "what took you so long" question. I've already fielded the IVF question, and the answer is plainly, "it was an option" with a none of your beeswax response further. That question is intended to fish out natural vs artificial bullshit, which is just that. I would have done anything possible to get here today and there is no shame in any of it. The truth is that we got pregnant the very first month we tried, and four years later we might get offspring. Misfits have a double elephant gestational period, little known medical fact.

My mom had the nerve to point out that my kid will be getting out of high school when I'm almost sixty. I took that as an opportunity to remind her that if thing had worked out as planned, I would have been much nearer to my fabulous fifties. I am too grateful to have any child at any time to get bogged down by my impending geriatric status. I cut her off at that point. Time was not a luxury I spent carelessly.

As long as there's some "maternal" in my advanced maternal age status, I could give a rat's ass about the rest. I'm pretty sure that I hit that threshold at 35 and since it covers my offspring until I am sixty (unless there's a super old advanced maternal age category) I will need to wear it with grace.

I had told her that I had my first stretch mark appear, which sent her into a "your body won't be the same" spiel. I answered that I've had a good long while with my unscarred belly and I'll accept each lightning bolt as a milestone if it means there's a baby under the rainbow. Strange things happen to your nipples, skin, and body odor that I never heard about, or read about and completely ignored. (Seriously, skin tabs are freaking awesome, right? Didn't know this one.)

I tend to pick on my mother-in-law with all of her dumb, yet well meaning, comments. But, my own mother has these moments. The difference of course is that I have no qualms about telling her to shut the hell up. Something my MIL will find our for herself over the next few years.

The countdown to "the tell" is now less than two weeks. I am 50/50 on how she'll react. The fact that only four family members know ought to soften the "last to know" surprise that she will want to turn into a lifelong guilt trip. One of my coworkers is social with my clueless brother-in-law, and I barely avoided a gossip explosion by hours. It will be a relief to not have to keep track of who we've told even if it's hard for us to share the secret with the world in general. Ready or not, here we go.

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PS I've turned off my capcha and am free balling comments these days. Blogger is getting under my skin. Apologies for the craptastic comment experience. Will try to fix something after the weekend.