So you may have noticed that I've neglected my blog. You've experienced radio silence for a few months because I just haven't wanted to chat about anything. Well, I think I'm ready to air my dirty laundry and be really honest even though I'm beyond embarrassed about how I've felt about life lately. Ready? Ok.
The not so big secret: I want to have a baby.
The not so known aspect of that statement: I can't seem to get pregnant.
We've been working on this whole pregnancy thing for 11 months. Granted, all the professional doctor types say you shouldn't get worried until it has been a year, but seeing as 11 months is only 31 days shy of 'worry time', I'm a little (no, a lot) freaked that it hasn't happened yet.
I'm tired of feeling alone.
And that isn't to say that I don't have amazing family and friends who are supportive. I just got back from a great weekend celebrating with my three best friends and talking about their babies. I am going to be the best Aunt ever to those three little girls. And I hope that my friends know how happy I am for them. Because I am over the moon happy for them.
It just gets really, really hard. Want to know how many friends / family / acquaintances have either had a baby or has gotten pregnant in the past year? Like, 12 or 13. I'm sure there are more. Those are just the ones I could think of off the top of my head. Every time I see the facebook announcements or I get the phone call I first feel so excited for them but then later the jealousy and ugliness creep into my thoughts: What did they do right and what did I do wrong? Why am I not allowed to experience that joy too? And then when I hear that someone who isn't in the best life situation gets pregnant, all I can think is "Really God? They get to have that joy and I don't? You can't be fucking serious." I've done everything right: I didn't do drugs. I graduated from high school and college with honors. I'm really close to finishing up my stupid thesis and actually having my Masters diploma in my hot little hand. I work really hard at a job I love. I contribute to society. So why is it that I'm not rewarded with what pretty much everyone on the planet proclaims to be the most important: the ability to share your life with a child?
The real kicker is that at this point, it isn't a glaringly obvious medical problem. I went to the doctor in December and she said everything looked good and that there were no immediate red flags to say we can't have kids. My monthly visit (cringe) is on time every single month and the ovulation tests always come back positive so we can almost completely rule out the usual suspect of PCOS. I'm supposed to call my doctor in April if we've still had no luck. I know lots of women have obvious medical issues, but at the very least they have a treatment plan and they know what they are up against. I have no clue what the problem could be. My current plan consists of doing what we are doing and hope for the best, which is a problem because guess what, it hasn't worked for 11 months. Oh and side note, don't tell me to relax. Would you tell someone with a flu that the cure would be to relax? Oy that doesn't help anyone!!
Anyway.
I know, I have a very blessed life, but at the end of the day I want to have my Chicken Little look alike. I want to hang his pictures on my fridge. I want to take him to the park and push him on a swing. I want to buy him ornaments from Hallmark every year for our Christmas tree. I want Ted to teach him nerdy computer stuff. I want my dad to show off his grandson at the fire station and let him ride in the cab of the ladder truck during a parade. I want my sister to be able to buy him designer kid outfits and to decorate his room. I want my mom and grandma to give him big hugs and kisses.
So there you have it. Why I've been so quiet lately. Now I'm gonna go back to work and mop up the massive nosebleed I'm now encountering. Woot.
