For us, it was more that it stopped being 'the wrong time'.
We were both 36, married for a year, nice home, good jobs, some savings - but despite looking ready on-paper, we were still really nervous to start trying.
We were scared about changing our nice comfortable lives, because we were happy - and what if having a child would make us LESS happy?
Then at the start of this year, DH and I discussed having a child for the 1000th time - and just said 'okay, let's just do this' our presumption was that it'd take months, maybe years to get pregnant.
It took two weeks.*
And again I felt un-ready (I had presumed we'd have months of disappointment, so that when/if it finally happened I'd be so thrilled and relieved to have conceived, I'd be overtaken by excitement).
When we had the 12 week scan, and we saw a tiny baby inside me for the first time, I felt ready - I felt that there was nothing in this world I would not do to protect my child.
And them, our friends (who until we conceived were waxing lyrical about how we'd never know a love like it, and how it was the most beautiful thing in the world) started a mission of competitive misery, about how little they slept, how little cash they had, how they never did anything they liked, ever, ever, ever... and we felt un-ready.
I'm now 28 weeks pregnant, our daughter is due to be born about two weeks before my 37th birthday, and occasionally I feel scared about what we've let ourselves in for... but the fear of our baby not being okay, or coming into a world which is broken, or being unhappy is far greater than my fear for myself, our readiness or our relationship.
I guess what I'm saying is, it's scary - but one day it's very slightly less scary than it had been up until that point.
*I know we are lucky, and we felt lucky, and shocked - and freaking terrified.