Thirty! 3-0! Three whole decades of this whole “being alive” thing! Wow. It’s pretty crazy.

I’ll admit, while I didn’t have any particular apprehension about turning thirty, now that it’s here I feel kinda… old. Not that I wasn’t living the old man lifestyle to begin with but… it’s a whole new decade. I’m not “twenty something” or even in my “late twenties.”  I’m thirty and I’m married and I have a baby and I live in a house and sometimes it still feels like I’m going to wake up and be 26 all over again and living in an apartment just one step up from “shitty” and having a free couch and temping and not really having my shit together and be all “Wait, so you mean I have to figure this all out?” Somehow, I did. Though don’t ask me how and please, for the love of Dog, don’t make me do it again.

I’ve seen lots of lists in the blogosphere of certain “thirty before thirty” accomplishments or things that people wanted to do. For me, I only had one. There was one, and only one thing that I wanted to do before I turned thirty and I did it. I got to be a mother with six whole months to spare and my most excellent baby boy is gift enough in and of himself.

I can’t really explain why it was so important to me to become a mom before 30, but it seemed like a kind of cut-off mark for being a “young” mom. I’ve had baby fever for over a decade and (as I’ve written about on Mother’s Day) lost my first marriage in my journey to motherhood.

When I read blogs of mamas who had troubles TTC (or hopeful mamas going through IVF) – my heart just swells with recognition of just how hard it is to want a baby and have these huge stumbling blocks. Those weren’t my struggles, but I’m so familiar with the agony of feeling just ripped up on the inside when watching everyone around me get pregnant and both being happy for them and just aching that it’s not me. Which is just to say that the amount that I’m grateful and just… well, oh so grateful that grateful doesn’t begin to cover it… for my son and my husband and this life we’ve made together can not be overstated. I never take this for granted for even a minute and it truly feels like such an accomplishment that “Wow. I’m 30 and I have my son and *I DID IT.*” I had a goal and I made it and that feels pretty damn good.

(And my son is awesome and my husband is awesome, which feels pretty damn, well, awesome.)

(I’d also like to mention, as I do compulsively whenever I see mention of her, that Beyoncé Knowles and I were born on the same day. She’s also turning 30 today. Most of the time when she’s in the media, it’s the result of doing some new album or movie or fashion line or whatnot and I feel like in comparison, I’ve done nothing in my life. Recently, she announced her pregnancy and it’s the time I’ve been able to say “Hey! I’ve done that!” So, hooray for being smug in the face of celebrity for the one and only time in my life.)