"It's only been 4 months".
Yes, it's true, it has only been 4 months since we started trying to conceive, but that is 4 times you get your hopes up, 4 times they are crushed, 4 times I have to tell my husband that we still aren't pregnant and 4 months of tears. It's 4 months of cramped fingers and toes from being crossed all the time. 4 months of crankiness from a lack of coffee and wine.
One of the hardest things about trying to conceive is the hyper awareness of pregnancy announcements all around you. My BFF just announced she is expecting on her first month trying and of course now William and Katherine. It is truly one of the worst feelings in the world when someone else's happiness triggers your own sadness and feelings of inadequacy.
Every month that goes by I get more and more scared that this isn't going to happen for me. Scared that I'm getting older by the minute and my chances are dwindling. Scared of how my marriage will be affected if we can't have children. Disappointing NJhusband every month is truly the most heartbreaking thing I have ever had to do. I am the strong one, he is the optimistic one. These are the roles we have always played, but I can see them lessening with every passing month and I don't know what they will evolve into after a few more disappointments.
Some days I just can't hold back the tears, and with the tears comes that wicked, wicked post-nasal drip. Way to kick me when I'm down.
I don't know where to pull the strength and faith from anymore. My reserves are dwindling.
This is hard.