After years of "not trying," I jumped for joy when B told me he was ready to "make babies." He said it just like that...plural...babies! And if only it were that easy. A year has gone by, and still not even one baby. Not even the tiniest hope of a baby. Just a bunch of money wasted on pregnancy tests that are always negative. (Is that a second line? Maybe? The smallest hint of a very faint second line? Maybe if I give it two more minutes...) And now we embark down a long, windy road called "infertility." We don't want to start down that road, so we linger at the crossroads, and the longer we linger, the more depressed I feel. We try to fill the empty space with distractions. We'll travel more! We get to spend all our money on ourselves! Skiing every weekend! Life is fun! I know, let's get a dog!!! But none of that satisfies this intense, gut-wrenching, undeniable, cellular-level longing I have to be a mom. And most days, I find myself resenting the poor dog we adopted because I really just wanted a baby.
I do realize that babies are much more exhausting than dogs, but at least they don't chew the faux fur off your new boots.
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