The one where I cry a little.

It doesn’t get any easier, does it? For over a year now, the Hubbs and I have been trying to make a baby. It was exciting at first. Then it got to be not so exciting. Then I started to get a dull ache when looking at a pregnant woman or someone with a squishy sweet infant (or motor mouth toddler, or over active child…. You get the picture.) Then, for a while, especially during my 104 day cycle, I couldn’t even look at them without wanting to scream in frustration. I thought it would go on like that until I got myself good and knocked up. Then I hit the one year mark.



Last month was the “official” one year mark of trying. With my PCOS, I had pretty much resigned myself to the fact that it would take a while to get pregnant. I had prepared myself for the disappointment and the heartache that I knew was to come. I told myself to accept it as a fact and move on. I don’t know what changed last month, and I’m not sure I can put it into words, but it’s more than an ache that I feel. Resignation, maybe? Hopelessness? It’s not really a physical pain anymore like it used to be…. I feel broken. I feel like part of me is just missing. Hollow and empty and lonely….but not quite.



I’m tired of charting, but I almost don’t have a choice. I need to know if I’m ovulating or not… especially with my history of long, anovulatory cycles. Since I refuse to test unless it hits 18 dpo and Good Ol’ Aunt Flo is nowhere in sight, I’m stuck. It’s just too hard to see a negative. Also, HPTs get expensive.



I’ve been seeing a lot of signs and commercials and fliers for adoption and foster care. Is it a sign? Does it mean that I’m not ever going to get pregnant, so I should give up trying and look in to adopting? I said before that I’m not going to get into IUI or IVF cycles. They just aren’t for me…. Mostly because I’m not going to stick myself with needles unless I absolutely HAVE to, plus there’s a million kids out there who need loving homes, and I can provide one. I want to adopt, but I also want to have biological children. I want to know what it feels like to be pregnant. I want to do both. I want it all. Is it too much to ask if I ask for everything?



So I spent as much time as possible with the Littles. When they were born, I finally understood how people can say that they would die for someone else. Mackenzie calls me Mom. Or Aunt Mom. She’ll say Aunt Em (or Emmy) or Aunt Meg, but when she sees me, it’s always Mom or Aunt Mom. Recently she’s been correcting people who call me Aunt Jill. She says “No, Aunt Mom.” OK, Little… whatever floats your boat! They make my life a little bit easier and a little bit lighter. They are how I know I could love someone unconditionally, even if I don’t give birth to them. They are my hope.



For any of you out there who have struggled or are struggling with infertility, or difficulty getting pregnant.... what is your hope? What is your little piece of light that makes the hurt not so bad? I really want to know.