When I was little, I always knew what I wanted to be when I grew up: a Mom.  I was the daughter of 2 happily married parents and I naturally assumed that my adult life would mirror theirs.  I'd be happily married for eternity.  I'd have 2 children - an older boy and a younger girl just like me and my brother. And of course, I would let my daughter do all of the things my mother wouldn't let me do because not only was I going to be a Mom, I was going to be a Cool Mom.

But things don't always work out how we plan.  And now I am less than 30 days away from my 35th birthday and I am childless.

I don't think it would be such a big deal if the media didn't proclaim 35 as THE GIANT SEMINAL TURNING POINT IN A WOMAN'S LIFE.  According to them, 35 is the year that our ovaries shrivel up and our ability to have children decreases DRAMATICALLY.  I think 35 is the year (or at least once was the year) that if you are STILL single, you have better odds of being blown up by a terrorist than finding a husband. Really, I shouldn't be excited about turning 35 seeing as it basically means I am going to die alone and childless and death may or may not include a bomb.

I never thought I wouldn't have kids. In fact, for a long time (like 4 years long) I actively tried to conceive. It never took. And a battery of tests that poked and prodded in and around and all up in my private womanly sanctuary revealed that I was young, healthy and totally capable of having children.  Why it never happened, I'll never know. I am going to go out on a limb and say that what's meant to be is meant to be and that at the time, children weren't meant to be. At least, not for me.

The question remains: are they in my future?

I've often wondered about how I would fare as a mother. As good as I am with kids, and as much as I love them (don't get me started on my scrumdiddlyumptious nephew), I am also from the MEMEMEMEMEME School of Selfish.  The choices I have made for the last 15+ years are all about me and for me.  I don't have to give up a night out with the girls because my daughter needs help with a book report. I don't have to pass over a dress on sale at Trina Turk because my son needs new clothes for school. I don't have to miss work for a sick child. I can wake up on a Friday at 7am, buy a plane ticket at 7:30am and be in Miami by noon. Nothing holds me back. But it's different when you're a parent. You put your children first. As well you should.

I am not stupid. I know my ovaries aren't going to shrivel up and dry out at 3:59pm on August 11th.  I have already survived one terrorist bombing. I'm still here and I am pretty sure that at the very least, I will go out on a handful of dates before I suffer through my next attack.

But still. I can't help but wonder. About what the future holds. And if it includes motherhood.