Okay, maybe I'm doubting a little bit. It is confession time. Lately I have been thinking about if I'll ever even have children at all. It seems like everyone around me is having babies. Every time I get online, I see new announcements. "I painted the nursery today!" "My husband felt her kick!" "Soandso was born this morning weighing suchandsuch and is thisandthat inches long!"
Every time I see something like that, I am overwhelmed with joy for the new parents. I can honestly say that from the bottom of my heart. But I would be full of it if I didn't say I felt a little tug at my heart. I (unlike a lot of women I talk to) am able to separate their baby from my lack of a baby. I don't want pregnant women feeling awkward because they are and I am not. I love, love, love babies. All babies. I love pregnancy. I just want to join the club. There is nothing wrong with that, right?
But part of me is starting to think that day isn't coming. Why is it taking so long? We're now over a year into "trying." I should be 21 weeks pregnant but...well...we all know how that turned out. So, assuming I get pregnant again soon, I still have to make it through 40 weeks of what I can only assume will be terrifying bliss. That brings us to February of next year (if I'm pregnant now, which I'm not.) Yet, I'm surrounded by brand-newlyweds, unweds, and people not even trying (who do not want children and make it known) with perfect pregnancies. How does God pick who He sends these children to? What makes that random lady across town with 14 kids that she doesn't want, no insurance, no home, no car, and a mean drug addiction a better candidate than I am? She gets pregnant with yet another baby that she doesn't want, while I'm stuck here sacrificing my sanity, my money, my time, and my health for a phantom child that I may or may not meet one day?
This isn't about the random lucky pregnant people. This is about me. I think about my future child every single day. Today, my vision was more than a little blurred. I have been so optimistic for so long, and I can feel it fading. It is sad when I expect to see a negative instead of a positive. 8, 9, or 10 months ago I was so sure I was pregnant every single month (even when I wasn't.) I miss that fresh drive and excitement.
Alright, vent over. Thanks for putting up with my mood swings.
*I feel the need to add that I realize a little over a year of trying is nothing compared to what some of you have gone through. You are stronger than I am and I admire you.*