Mrs. LeBeef and myself have been trying for a couple of years now. Well, by trying I mean we “pulled the goalie” first, then started in with the heavy temperature checking, running calendar days and finally trying fertility meds from the gyno. Now something has stuck, we have a six week old bean, and it’s starting to look like it might stay around for a while. This is the first one for both of us.
I’m scared to death. I’m excited, overjoyed, nervous and scared to death.
At 44, I’ll be 62 when this little zygote heads off to college. I’m not worried about the age that much, I’m fairly healthy, in decent shape, financially we are doing fine, but the idea that I am responsible for someone’s emotional and physical upbringing is very frightening indeed. My usual motto has been WWYD? Consider What Yancey Would Do, then do the exact polar opposite and you’ll be fine.
Whew. Whelp, here we go.
Oh, by the way, we have only told our parents so far, so this is just between you and me, alright?