This started as a reply in Craige's blog post, but it got far too long to leave as a comment, so it's become an entry in its own right.
A message to my newly-ish married friends who are getting pressure to procreate, but who aren't ready to take that parenting plunge:
There's nothing at all wrong with you for wanting to wait. Here's the truth that people don't like to share with you--NOTHING AT ALL--not even one tiny little thing--will be the same about your life once you have a baby. It's all a trade-off. You give up who you were, and in return you get this small, sticky, somewhat stinky being that is utterly reliant on you for everything. The weird part is that you say thank you to whatever force brought that small, sticky, somewhat stinky being into your life. A lot.
The weekend we were in NYC was the first real trip away we took since Will was born, and it was wonderful to have Just Jennifer back for a whole weekend. But by the time our bus pulled into the station back in Boston, I was ready to fly home on my own power, because I am no longer quite complete without that little guy.
All of that said, I will admit that I would have chosen to wait a little longer before getting pregnant if I'd had a choice. We'd only been married for six months, and, while we'd talked about babies, we certainly weren't trying yet (see: pregnant on the pill). But suddenly I was standing in our condo with a double pink line pregnancy test in my hand. Kirk was instantly thrilled. Me--not so much. I was mad.
Flash forward three weeks to the point where I started spotting for no discernable reason and my hcg levels were inexplicably leveling off (for those of you NOT in the pregnancy know, neither of these things are a good sign 8 weeks into being pregnant). Many blood draws and a couple ultrasounds later, we were deemed safe for the moment by the Powers That Be, and I knew for certain that there was nothing in the world I wanted more than for this baby to be okay. And he was. And he is. And now I wouldn't trade anything about my life to have the pre-child me back.
Well, except maybe for that 10 pounds I can't seem to get rid of.