Eighteen Months

It's been eighteen months this week since Nate and I have started trying to expand our family. In this time, I've seen so many of my friends get pregnant, have beautiful babies, and move on with their lives while I feel stuck in the patterns of my youth. Infertility isn't a life-destroyer, it's more of a life-worsen-er. People would argue that nothing is being taken away from you when you cannot get pregnant, but that's not necessarily true. Life is taken away from you, something that so many people take for granted. It is painful for me to be around my niece sometimes, because she reminds me of my sister-in-law and the choices she made- the choice to get pregnant as a weapon and the choice to abandon her child in favor of drugs. We are looking into both IVF and adoption options and moving forward, with the knowledge that this may never happen for us. By the way, the cliches are true. People will tell you that "if you relax, it will happen" and "you're just not trying hard enough" and even "maybe God doesn't want you to be parents." All of those people who said that to us have kids, by the way.

While I have hope, I also have cautious resignation. And margaritas and casinos and sushi, all of which make the monthly heartbreaks heal a little faster.