A long time ago I knew a woman who wanted a baby. She had been married for quite some time but even after many years of trying for a baby she did not get pregnant. That didn't stop her from preparing for a baby though.
When I say preparing, I don't mean watching those weird baby birthing shows on tv or getting a book of baby names either. She built and decorated a nursery. She bought a crib and stroller and baby toys. It wouldn't have surprised me if she bought diapers too. She had everything she needed for a baby, just in case one magically appeared on her doorstep overnight. That never happened though. And now, short of a miracle, she will never have a baby. It's a sad story. And sadder still is the fact that her house is now a monument and reminder of something that will never happen. Every day she wakes up to see the pieces of a shattered dream, and every night she returns to the rubble of that same dream.
Sometimes I wonder if I am heading down that same direction. Not that I'm trying to get pregnant. I am setting my life up for what I want in the future, but I wonder if it will ever happen. If not, then all my preparations will be for nothing. They will just be a reminder of a goal not achieved. Then I wonder if it's best to not even prepare.