The Plan.

It was beautiful, and well thought out. The night we got engaged, we started formulating the plan. Operation Baby Making.

That night, I was 23 years 8 months. He was 31 and 8 months.
Deciding that it was time to make the most of my youth and use what was left of his to our advantage, we counted backwards to determine what was needed to have a child when I was 25.
Let me clarify. We wanted the baby BORN while I was 25. Deciding 4 months wasn't enough time to plan and save for a June wedding, we were married the day before my 25th birthday. That January I'd stopped taking birth control pills, wanting to get those out of my system and hit the honeymoon....er...babymaking! I even thought we timed it right so I wouldn't have my period on the honeymoon. At least I was right about something.

We called it the period that wouldn't come. Three months after coming off the pill there was still no sign of it, but I'd gained 20 pounds despite determined weight loss efforts. My doctor said the pill just hadn't left my system. I took provera to bring on my period, and that was the last I saw of it until after my honeymoon. My doctor wanted to see me the Monday before my wedding....I knew something was wrong and didn't want bad news to spoil the day.

Two days after we got back from the honeymoon, I got the name of the thing that explained so much of what life had been like since I was a teenager. The painful periods and irregularity, even while on the pill. .........all pointed to PCOS, prominently touted as "the #1 cause of infertility."

That my friends, is because I am an overachiever.

I'm now less than 2 months away from my 26th birthday.

How do you make God laugh? Tell him your plans.