We wouldn't recognize happiness without a little sadness

Life can just plain suck. Let's not beat around the bush... I mean it, it can truly suck.

Through all of this, I've had my moments... those hours where I questioned what was happening, what I had done to get here and why it had to be ME that was dealing with this misery. The pouting, the angriness... even the tears, all paled in comparison to what I felt yesterday.

I blame it on the hormones, after all; there is no way I could have felt so low without this being a major contributor. I'm not sure where or how it started, but in the midst of the heartache I found myself on the floor of our closet surrounded by shorts that no longer fit my bloated belly, and craving for someone, somewhere to understand.

It seems, that lately I am obsessed. But is this so unexpected? My life is CONSUMED with trying to conceive. Needles, statistics, alternative treatments, message boards, books, medications... I don't have much more space in my consciousness for anything else. Here I sit, only 19 days from my expected transfer (according to one of many tickers counting down everything to do with this journey) and I feel overwhelmed, scared, excited and most of all ALONE.

Why does this process alienate you from the outside world? I remember when I was planning our wedding 3 years ago. Every detail was considered, checked and then confirmed. This too consumed me, but in a completely different way. When I purchased yet ANOTHER book on planning the perfect wedding, the girl always smiled at me and said "Congratulations!!" looked at my ring and happily presented me with my purchase. When I discussed the floral arrangements with my girlfriends they ooed and awed... fascinated by every selection and fondly added their ideas from weddings they had attended in the past. Even my husband was excited to try the dozen flavours of wedding cake in helping pick the tastiest one. I didn't mind being obsessed, and everyone I talked to got just as excited.... so why was this so different?

Why is it THIS time, when I buy another book to add to my collection does the teller have this look of sadness for me? She not only doesn't congratulate me (Who would?) but she hurries to put "Taking charge of your Fertility" in the bag before others see... When I try to talk to my girlfriends about the process, the medications and how they are making me feel, they say "Oh I know... it isn't easy for everyone, we took a couple months of practice before WE had our first". (completely dismissing the fact that I am dealing with something completely different than a couple of months of practice sex). And my husband... my dear patient husband. As I sat on the floor and cried he sat at the edge of the bed and simply stared. He was unable to say anything... Surely afraid that whatever he said would not be what I needed to hear. And he was probably right... in that moment, there was nothing that COULD be said to make me feel better.

I am a failure as a woman. That is how I felt. All these years, I thought the hardest battle would be finding a man I could truly love, and earning enough money to live in the lifestyle I had come to expect for myself. Little did I know, that after the great job... the perfect wedding and the overflowing love I shared with my husband; I would be sitting on the closet floor full of clothes that no longer fit, dying inside for the only thing that really mattered...

The happiness will come, I hold onto that truth... and I also know that without this pain and heartache, I wouldn't appreciate the blessings and love that will one day be mine. This journey, although difficult and lonely, is here to teach me... that I am strong, that I am capable, and that I have love waiting in the wings for my child to arrive. I simply have to be patient and realize, that sometimes gifts don't come in the way we always expected.