Today is my 30th birthday. That's right, the big 3-0. For years I've told Sam that if we don't have kids by my 30th birthday I'm going sky diving. Sam wasn't fond of this idea. You see, Sam has a healthy respect of heights. More than that, Sam has a fear of watching me jump out of a plane. I told him he could go too, but that didn't work. Luckily for Sam, Joseph came along. Before Joseph, I didn't fear dying. I'm not saying I lived recklessly, I just knew that if something happened here on Earth, I would move on to spending eternity with Aubrey. Now that we have Joseph, things have changed. If I die, he doesn't have a mom. Being responsible for another life kind of puts things into perspective.
The thought of turning 30 has been a little rough on me. I think the biggest reason I've been dreading this birthday is the fertility timeline. We are no longer a young couple with unexplained inferitlity, we are now considered middle aged in the fertiltiy world. No, we don't have plans to pursue fertility treatments in the future. No, I didn't think I would unexplainably get pregnant before I hit this point. It's just another reminder that we are dependent on others to expand our family.
So today, instead of jumping out of a plane, I'm playing with the most precious little boy I've ever laid eyes on. We're making a huge mess in the room where our guests used to sleep. I'm laying him down for a nap in a crib that I wondered if we would ever really use. I'm meeting up with old friends to celebrate with a cookie cake (with lots of icing :). I'm ordering a pizza and eating it on the couch while watching a movie with the love of my life. Maybe 30 won't be so bad after all.