this is why i wish we had started working on a family a few years ago.  back then, i wouldn’t have felt rushed and, instead of “trying”, we could have kept more of a let’s-see-what-happens attitude.  now, i’m 32 years old and he’s 46 and i feel like we’re just running out of time for this to happen.  not only biologically but also in terms of energy for child-rearing.  my parents were almost 36 when they had me and i remember thinking they were so old growing up (which wasn’t helped by people always asking me why my grandparents were raising me).  i don’t want my kid to be embarrassed by our age and i don’t want to be too worn out to play with them.  i keep telling myself not to get my hopes up because i’m still dubious about the chances of me being able to conceive anyhow but it’s hard to keep hope away.  i know there are people who keep trying for years… i find myself wondering if i have it in me to face crushing disappointment month after month, year after year.  how many of these monthly devastations will i be able to bear?