Last night I laid in bed wanting another baby so badly. I knew I had another month of medication, and I was sure I could convince my husband to give it one more shot. I mean, what if next month was "the month?"
That is the mantra of all women who suffer from infertility; maybe next month. Maybe next month the prescription will work. Maybe next month the procedure will work. Maybe next month my body will work properly. Maybe next month I will be pregnant. I fell into this trap. It was the next procedure, or surgery, or medication, it was the next try that could be "the one." But it wasn't for me, and next thing I realized is I had two years of "maybe the next month" and nothing to show for it. I was so focused on trying to conceive I missed out of seeing what blessings were right in from of me. My life revolved around my cycle. It is all I ever thought about. It was two weeks of hoping we got the timing right and that the medications/procedures worked, just to discover one morning they didn't. Then a week of being depressed, followed by a week of getting ready to "get it right," followed by two weeks of hoping....I think you get the idea. This was how month after month it was for me. The mantra can get into my head and make me feel crazy. I think you can see now why we are done for a while.
While writing this, an old cut started to bleed. I asked D if we could grab me a band-aid. He came over to see why, and, after seeing the blood, he said, "I'll get you one of mine with the super-heros on it. You need a really strong super-hero." He then come in with the box and started to search through them. "How about the Hulk? No, I think you need this special strong Iron Man. Here, Mom." After, he put the package of band-aids away and throw away all the garbage (after putting one on himself of course.). How can I feel I am missing out when I have such a great kids as D? I must be going now. It is time to read Highlights magazines together. Maybe next month we will talk about wanting a baby again, or maybe not. ;)