Oliver and I are not kid crazy people. I define that as: we both agreed we wanted them someday, but we don’t assault random infants on the street to pinch their cheeks and make goo goo noises.
Once we’d established that both were theoretically open to them in the oh-so-distant-future, we didn’t talk about them again until a year or two after we were married and then as something still to come. We had time. We weren’t in any hurry. There were things we wanted to do and accomplish first. We were happy to wait, even as our friends and siblings married and started having kids. We weren’t in any rush.
The first time we really got serious about the topic was in planning the move to China. During our visit it was clear what most of the expat wives did to occupy themselves while they were there. After learning about the hospitals in Beijing, the cheap and plentiful household help, and the tight knit community full of kids it was easy to see why it made sense. I wasn’t super eager about it yet, but it was clear to me that it would be a good idea to try and start a family while we were over there (in addition to starting my sweatshop empire of course).
After that move fell through at the last minute, the idea remained Continue reading