it is now 12:48am.
half of me is surprised. the other half, less amused.
surprised that i find myself still intact, my ovaries having not spontaneously combusted at the stroke of midnight on this dreaded day. the 35th birthday. you know, the day of female reproductive death? all the magicians know this to be true. it’s a proven fact people:
34 and trying for a baby? no problem! how about a two-fer? we have a 3 for 1 special right now.
35? you’re totally fucked. please do not pass go. do not collect $200. in fact, please leave $20,000 at the door as you go directly to jail.
seriously folks. i’m here now. i always saw myself here, sure. there’s no escaping time, nor am i trying to do that. hiding? sure.
but i’ve always saw myself, here… differently. when i was in my 20’s i thought i’d be married with three kids by 30. i’ll give you a minute to collect yourself from your riotous laughter. in my early 30’s i had JUST gotten married and dreamed at 35 i’d have 2 kids.
and here i am. 38 minutes into this never-ending downward slope and I want to shake that girl at 30 and tell her “YOU DON’T HAVE TIME!” don’t listen to that fallacy people… “You’re young!”… time is never on your side.
at 35 now, i feel my dream has taken flight. a finality of sorts. the tide has shifted. have i accepted my “dream” to be just that? a dream? a wish, a flickering light far off in the distance? it feels impossible to hold that glimmer of light in my hands anymore. among the unending pregnancy announcements and baby shower invites.
it doesn’t help that today of all days i was “late.” by two days. don’t worry folks. the universe made sure to snap me back to reality. it’s having the last laugh right now. while i sit here. in bed. tears running down my cheeks. i can’t fault them for escaping this sinking ship, they are right to do so. i should be celebrating all that i am and yet on this birthday instead i’m reminded of all that i’ve been dreaming of. and all that is no longer in me. when do you let go of your dreams? when do you put the line in the sand and tell yourself “enough?” when is letting go no longer accepting defeat? is it now? am i embracing reality, being “realistic?”
that sounds much more seasoned. more mature. something a mid-thirties gal would say. it’s 1:20am. the clock doesn’t slow down for anyone.