Are women still obsessing over their “biological time clocks?”
Is it just me or do we all have those nagging milestones in the back of our minds? The ones that seem to be a constant reminder that we might not be where we thought we would be at this point in our lives. Graduating college at 25, married by 28, successful career woman and starting a family by 30. I mean I’m literally laughing as I type this out. What is wrong with us? Why are women (and men) so hard on themselves? God forbid things aren’t going like we planned, “Um hey Jesus, I kind of wanted to be married at this point, and practically all my friends are pregnant so could you help a girl out?” Comparison and society are both equally evil.
I hate waiting.
My mom will tell me hate is a strong word, but I do and it’s funny because I’m usually the last one to be ready (sorry Matt). I guess that’s one reason why I’m obsessed with planning. I have to be prepared before I commit to anything. I’d rather not stop to pee if it means I won’t meet my ETA, and as much as I wish they didn’t, spontaneous trips freak me out. I’ve been pregnant twice. One successful and one unsuccessful. Both times I was completely out of control of the situation, hello anxiety. Which leads me to the main point of this post. My first pregnancy ended in miscarriage at six weeks. Hardly anyone even knew I was pregnant. It sucked. It wasn’t something I felt like I could have prepared myself for even now. As common as they are I didn’t know many other women who had even experienced it, but then again it’s not really a subject most women like to openly talk about.
It seemed like every person I knew was announcing their pregnancies or having babies, getting married, and just celebrating life. Not me. Nope, my next chapter got put on hold and I was super bitter about it. I was really over all the social media announcements, so I removed all the apps from my phone and took some time to self reflect. I’m embarrassed to say that I let myself get that way, but I did. Grief (and life) is hard. I didn’t understand why this had to happen to me, but nevertheless that was where I was. People tried to speak words of encouragement after finding out, but nothing really helped. Time and prayer did. I found peace in believing I would get the opportunity again, and for that I’m thankful.
I’ve never shared or really even talked about this until now because social media is where we share the pretty moments, and that’s okay. If I want to look back and only remember happy moments of my life though rose colored filters I don’t think I would be fooling anyone, especially myself. Life is hard and sometimes really shitty, but I’m focusing on the good. Three months after my miscarriage I got my positive test, and nine months later the sweetest, most precious baby girl. It didn’t go as I had planned, but I know it went exactly the way it was supposed to.
So, if you took a couple more years to graduate, haven’t found your lifelong partner, you’re struggling with infertility, or missed out on your dream job, don’t beat yourself up about it. Your journey is yours. Be content because you’re doing great hun. Oh, and don’t compare yourself to your Instagram feed because we’re all just sharing the best parts.
XO
-KP
Allyson Burnside Photography