Tomorrow I see my dr to chat about “options”. I try to think positively. That there is this solution; a pill or a shot. That my body will conceive and God will offer me the opportunity to be a mother. I have literally ached for motherhood for so long, I can’t even remember when it all started.
Then, this “positive” lens falls away, I’m sitting on the sidelines. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. My will to keep moving towards my dream and hearts desire seems pointless. We are the 20-something generation: no savings or extra finances. If our insurances doesn’t cover fertility treatment or IVF; I’ll stand here arms empty. If I can’t convince my husband, after all attempts are exhausted, that adoption is the means to motherhood; I’ll stand here, arms empty. He tries to convince me “you are a mom”. I am not. I am a step in parent, when the real mom isn’t around. You are not a mom till that little person looks into your eyes, realizing that you’re their mommy.
I despise people who whine about “falling” pregnant, yet again. Or bitching about the things accompanying pregnancy. I would die for it!
I wish you could all materialize infront of me, my fellow ladies battling infertility and recovering from miscarriage, we could sit down and have coffee, a good cry, and some honest, I know what you are going through, hugs.
The stupid comments people throw my way make me want to stamp my feet and scream, “you don’t have a clue. Fuck off!”