Well, ladies and gentlemen. No surprise here. I’m out. Today is CD1 for me. Right on time. Just like clockwork. Aunt Flo has arrived complete with her cramps and mood swings. In my mind, I see her laughing rather mockingly at me. ‘How dare you think you were going to conceived this month’. Man, this sucks.
So, I’ll try again. But I’m not sure I want to. It’s hard. Grieving the loss every month. The emotion is raw. You find your sanity tested. You find your faith tested. Yeah. You find your faith tested. There is never any point in getting mad at God. He has his reasons. Maybe it isn’t time. Maybe there is something else you need to focus on first. Maybe, it isn’t His desire for you to be a mother yet…or at all. That sounds horrible and you find yourself feeling guilty for thinking it and for your anger. But it’s there and it’s palpable, and can’t be ignored. You want to be a mother, again. You hear those who say at least you have children. They are right. You do. And love them more than life. But you know that you have the heart and capacity for many, many more. You have already adopted. You aren’t against doing it again, desire to even, but you want your husband’s blood line to be represented as well and you realize that maybe that just isn’t going to happen. And…you’re out.
It’s CD1 and I’m writing another post about how this month wasn’t the month. I’m looking at yet another article on fertility diets and viewing yet another vlog about what they did to get pregnant this time. Maybe I’ll try the maca root this time. Maybe acupuncture. Maybe I should get the Fertilease for my husband. Maybe I should get the female version for myself. And sure enough I hear that small voice that says “Maybe you should just give up”…and I want to. But I can’t. Because I want this more than anything. But I know that I’ll be 36 next month and my egg count is depleting and no one knows the quality. And so, I move forward…again.
It’s Cycle Day 1 and I’m out…