It's been quiet around here lately. A little bit too quiet. Sorry about that. Among all of the traveling I've been doing this summer, it's rare when I'm even home, and forget about having time to think of witty things to write. I think I'm going to have a couple weeks of down time though, so maybe I'll write more. I guess it will depend on if I have anything exciting to say.
Honestly, I don't have much news right now. I'm just waiting, waiting. My life is watching the second hand tick on the clock, literally watching time pass before my eyes. What else can I do? I'm still in limbo. I'm still in a standoff with my body--refusing to believe the fact that it may never carry children. I'm stubborn in my beliefs, and my body is stubborn in hers. Our guns are each pointed at each other, and I keep hoping she'll lower hers and surrender. I hope we can come to some sort of compromise, but it will just depend on what she wants, I guess. I'm always at her mercy. I'm sure I've said it all before. I've been dreaming about having babies of my own since I was probably eight years old, and yet I'm nearing twenty-five and have nothing of that sort to show for myself. In Jack White's famous words, "Oh well, oh well, oh well."
On the bright side, I'll find out in a few short days if I'll be needing Clomid this next month. Which also means that I'll find out soon if this last month stuck. We'll see. I analyze my symptoms each month in hopes that some telltale sign will manifest itself, praying that this will be my month. Each month, I start calculating due dates and other exciting dates and times, and I really feel like this month would be completely perfect. April would be a great time to have a baby! Josh will be finishing school, and who knows what exciting adventures will be in store for us then? Parenthood would be pretty cool. And, until then, I'm not taking any extra tests. I'm not hyping myself up and convincing myself that this is my month. Because, while it really could be, it's entirely possible that it is not. (Honestly, I'll probably finish this post and go take a test, because I have NO self-control. Let's be real here!)
As I'm sure everyone in the English-speaking world already knows, the Duchess of Cambridge, Kate, from William and Kate, gave birth to a baby boy today. On some Facebook groups that I follow, administrators were asking what infertile women were doing to keep their minds off of the news, and it got me really thinking. Why shouldn't be we happy to celebrate the exciting news of others? There is no rule that says that because one person had a baby that I won't or that others struggling never will. There's no shortage of little souls waiting to be sent to families. I know that such a public excitement over a baby could be upsetting to some, but why? Why don't we all focus on the positives in the world instead of worrying about our own little corners of negativity? I'm so happy for the royal family! What a wonderful thing! Babies are always blessings, and they always deserve celebration.
I'm holding my breath right now. My two week wait is coming to an end, and I'm hopeful in a way I've been hopeful 25 other times, but different and unique because this month I'm sure I did it right, the same way I've been certain so many other times. I'm not sure what to say or do at this point, because I'm too busy crossing my fingers and accepting the fact that I've done all I can this month. And the world is watching England right now, eagerly anticipating more baby news, and I'm still holding my breath while the crickets chirp and I wait for news of my own. I'm breaking my silence, but I don't have anything to say, yet. I don't know why they call it a "waiting game." It's really not fun for anyone.
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