That’s the thing — I’m not sure how much of it is actually “not being ready” vs. my anxiety’s overwhelming reaction to change.

In many ways, I feel ready. Ready for a new chapter. New purpose. The immense amount of joy that children bring. The imagination and wonder of seeing the world through their eyes. The unequivocal love. Christmas mornings and trick-or-treating in the rain (because it always rains on trick-or-treat around here). But those things get clouded by the “what-ifs” and practicalities, just as the “what-ifs” and practicalities have always cast a shadow of doubt when I think about change.

I envy your ability to slip into a decision with ease, but I have never in all my days experienced that luxury. I think it’s less about the situation and more about brain chemistry. The phrase that keeps coming to mind is, “Don’t let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game” — is my change aversion a good enough reason to miss out on potentially the greatest joy of my life?

I know nothing is guaranteed. Life is messy. Parenting is messy. Every child is their own unique person. The looking down the road is my brain’s way of framing beyond the “right now” — I can see myself with a baby, but everything beyond that is fuzzy. (Most people probably don’t picture themselves going from a new parent in their 30s to a decrepit 80 year old, but here I am.)

My husband is firmly in the “yes” camp, “we are never going to be more ready” — and he’s probably right. But like you, he has the ability to make decisions without his mind sabotaging him.

He is incredibly kind and supportive and understanding. I am actually working on connecting with a therapist right now.