When Cathy and I got married, we were only 25. Neither of us had lived away from our parents. We didn't do a lot of traveling abroad. There was so much of life yet to be experienced, but we were (and still are) committed to experiencing those things together.
But everyone was asking us to start a family. The church, the aunts, even some of our friends. Babies? No way! I gotta see Europe first. Maybe buy a sports car. Or go out to dinner and a movie on a Thursday night. How would I do that with a baby? We agreed that we wouldn't even consider a family until we turned 30.
That was then. But now, at 28, I'm already itching. This condo is too small, and it's too quiet. I shrug off plans to visit Spain. "Sure, that might be fun..." I used to be scared of holding a baby. "I might hurt her", or "he might start crying." Now, I look forward to going to a family party and being around children. And I dream of being at a family party one day with my brother's kids, my sister-in-law's kids, my friend's kids, and CathyAl's bundle(s) of joy.
What seemed so distant, so blurry, so very absurd, is now as clear as day. Life's experiences, those I want to share with my wife, need not come from material things or expensive trips.
Cheers to change!
Disclaimer: No, Cathy is not pregnant. And no, we're not trying to start a family. Yet.