38

38 . . . that is the number of times I have gotten my hopes up.  The number of times I have let myself wonder what if.  The number of times my heart has broken when realizing that it isn't my time yet.  But it's one less heart break I am going to experience.  It's one less disappointment. One day closer.

I never thought having a baby would be an easy journey for me.  A gut instinct.  A mother's intuition well before her time.  And as fate would have it, it hasn't been an easy journey.  Not even a slightly easy journey.  It's a one step forward, three steps back sort of journey.  But each day is still one day closer.

And honestly?  It sucks.  There is not other way to describe it.

Yesterday I found out two people in my life are pregnant (while were at the baptism for a third friend's child) which came the day after I was graced with the reminder that I wasn't going to get the best Mother's Day gift ever.  Yeah.  My reaction wasn't the best.  I cried.  I did.  It was an involuntary reaction.  It sucked.

I feel like this journey isn't something that is ok to talk about.  I don't know what to say and if I don't know what to say, how can I ever expect anyone else to say the right thing.  Is there a right thing to say?  I don't know.  It's a tough road to navigate.  For everyone, whether you are in the trenches of infertility or on the sidelines, watching someone go through it.  No one knows what to say or do.

I need a place to vent.  To word vomit.  To get it all out, so I don't have to hold on to it.  

I want a record of what I have gone through.  For me.  A place where when I get discouraged, I can look back and see just how far I have gone.  How I really am just one day closer to meeting that little person who is going to be the bee's knees and is going to rock my world and adore their Papa. 

One day closer . . .