2016 Might Not Be Our Year.

So, what if this year isn’t any different than last year? Last year, I was positive that it would be “our year”. I was convinced that a positive pregnancy test would show up and we would be on our way to being parents. I was sure of it. I had a gut feeling.

And that same gut feeling is back. But it’s obvious that my gut was wrong before. So what if 2016 is the same as 2015 and I go through the year – hopes high – only to celebrate every holiday without a baby bump?

I’m going to be okay. That’s what.

Yeah, I said it. I’m going to be okay. I’ve proven time and time again that I can handle a negative test. Even on the days I had to pick myself up off the bathroom floor, I was able to do it. I’m sick of giving myself expectations and beating myself up when they don’t work out the way I want them to. It’s not my fault. I’m putting too much stress on myself and I’ve got to stop.

I’m in no way going to give up hope. I know in my heart that I am meant to be a mother. What I’m saying is, I’ve got to stop trying. Trying leads to disappointment month after month. And for once, in this journey, I need to let myself breathe. I need to be able to do something – anything – without the thought of “is this my month” lurking in the back corners of my mind.

Infertility is evil. It consumes you until it becomes everything you do, every action you take, every thought you have. You want to go out for drinks with friends? Forget it, you might be pregnant. You want to go tanning? Sorry, you might be pregnant. Sex life? Ha. It’s now a chore that you time out and plan around a date on the calendar. Conception is the only thing on your mind during it and you’re almost relieved when it’s over because now it’s time to put a pillow under your hips and help those little guys out. (Don’t get me wrong here people. Anyone who knows me knows I love E with every ounce of my soul and that last part is not a reflection of our relationship. I told you, infertility is evil.)

That’s no way to live. We’ve been trying for almost 3 years. I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of stressing. I’m tired of the weight it puts on not only my shoulders, but on my marriage. I’m scared that when I do see two pink lines instead of one, I’m going to sigh in relief instead of jump for joy. That’s not what I want that day to be like.

Infertility is evil, but I’m no longer letting it control my life. I’m sure that I’ll still watch the calendar and watch for pregnancy tests to go on sale, but I’m done letting it stress me out.

So, 2016, I do have high hopes for you. I will always hope that each year that comes will be “our year”. The difference, though, is if this isn’t our year, I won’t allow myself to fall to pieces on the bathroom floor. I won’t allow some day on the calendar determine my mood. Maybe it will be this year. Maybe it will be 2021. I don’t know. What I do know is I will come out on top no matter what. I’ll be okay.

-j