What do you want?

What do you want? No, really, what do you want? It seems like a simple question at first glance but when you take a deeper glance, you realize just how loaded that question truly is. And some people know exactly what they want and can answer it somewhat easily. Then there are the people like me, who freak out because they don't really know. Or maybe they do and the answer scares them. Or the answer is too big or too different from what they can accept. Sometimes knowing what you want is overwhelming. Sometimes it's so different from where you started that you aren't ready yet to admit that.

What do I want? I think I kinda know. I want to be happy. I want to be at peace. I want financial freedom. I want to be fulfilled with my work. I want stacks of books, good food, and lots of laughs. I want people in my life who value me and respect me. I want to marvel at wondrous things. I want to smile in the sun and in the rain. I want to learn new things. I want regrets I can live with and choices that don't wrench my heart into pieces. I want nights under a starry sky with my lover. I want nights spent wrapped in blankets while the cool breeze dances across our faces. I want kisses and cuddles and inside jokes. I want laughter and music and dogs to fill our home. I want my chaotic family around me all the time.

Do I want kids? Yeah, sometimes I do. Sometimes I want kids so fucking bad that I can't breathe. But, yet, sometimes I'm ok that I don't have them. Sometimes I'm grateful that there isn't a tiny human depending on me.

It's really confusing to be on both sides of the fence. It's hurtful because my body is making the decision for me that kids aren't likely in the picture. It's upsetting that I'm use to not having kids of my own and the freedom that comes with that is rather nice. I'm happy and I have a full life despite being barren.

The real question is, will I always feel this way? Will I ever make peace with this? Will I regret not having them? Would I regret having them? Hard questions without easy answers. I just don't know what I want.

And sometimes I'm ok with that and sometimes it just really sucks.

Where is my baby?

For the first time in quite some time, I had an IF breakdown the other night. I'm talking full on tears, sobs, and heartbreaking pain. I had spent the day holding my tiny nephew, just snuggling him and listening to his little noises. Watching him do that adorable little baby stretch and flash sweet smiles. It just felt so natural to be around a baby and tend to his needs. It also made me ache deep down in my soul for my baby. A baby I started trying for at the age of 25 and here I am at 33 still childless. It just all hit me that night and I let myself feel it.

M said something quite innocent to me about how we have been trying. I guess I haven't let myself really think about it and it just hit me like a ton of bricks. What if we never succeed? What if it's just too late for my body to do what seems so natural for most couples? How could I allow M to know this world of IF? Why the hell did I fall in love again when I know I'm reproductively challenged? How could I do that to him? IF contributed to my first marriage's destruction, am I crazy to think it won't do the same to this one? The guilt is just overwhelming and all consuming. I feel so horribly about it all.

M started comforting me and talking about seeing doctors, and if there are any vitamins he can take to help improve his sperm, just in case, and should we start googling to learn more about conceiving. It just was so surreal to hear those words, a variation on past conversations with XH about the same damn things. I almost screamed from rage at it all, at the fucking irony of being back in this place again. It makes me want to throw things and punch people and curl up into a little ball and cry until there are no tears left.

The IUD was removed in late May and we did use condoms for a while. We didn't call it TTC until around September but in reality, it's been almost a year since we ditched all forms of birth control. Given our ages (33 and 36), what did I expect? And now this brings up all kinds of questions about what to do about it. Do we see doctors? Do we consult Dr Google? Do we start vitamins? Do I go back down that road again of having doctors elbow deep in me to tell me things I've already heard?

When I think about that, I just feel so exhausted. I've already had that experience and I truly don't think I have it in me to do that again. I truly have no desire to hear another doctor order an HSG, prescribe meds that make me crazy, or hold his hand through a SA. It's too much to go through again. I cannot keep my sanity through more of that. I panic at the thought of researching IUI and IVF again. The PTSD from it all is very real and manageable now, I'm not sure my mind can handle it again.

So, I'm not sure what will happen. All I do know is that I keep thinking where is my baby? And it's draining.

when dreams hurt

This cold really wiped me out so I've been doing a lot of sleeping lately and with sleeping, came the dreams. Dreams that were amazing but that cause so much pain after I wake up. I dreamed of our son one night, so tiny and cute, full of little baby grunts and squeaks. In my dream, I was in awe that someone so wonderful was mine and I just held him and couldn't stop kissing him. C and I were over the moon happy and even talked about giving him his first bath together. The next day, all I could think about was that dream baby. How precious a son would be and how much I want our baby. My arms were aching to hold that dream baby again.

No wonder I then had a dream about our dream daughter. A sweet little girl all wrapped up in pink and with a closet full of the cutest clothes imaginable. She was full of smiles and cute little yawns and again, all I could do was hold her and tell her how much C and I had longed for her. My heart was overflowing in my dream, I was such a happy mommy.

Waking up was torture and again, all I can think about is our baby. My heart is aching right now for him or her, I wonder when we'll meet and how he or she will look, the books I'll read and the tiny clothes I'll wash and fold. I wonder about amazing baby snuggles, sweet baby laughs and little kicking feet covered in itty bitty socks. It brings tears to my eyes and I realize just how empty our lives are. The holidays never fail to shine a spotlight on what is missing. It's a different kind of pain than normal, it's a quiet one that whispers constantly about what we lack. In some ways, it's worse than the loud in your face screaming pain that I feel when we are in the middle of doctor appointments and surgeries.

These baby dreams don't occur often and I'm grateful for that because I couldn't keep my sanity if they did. They just seem to pop up at the worst times and break my heart into pieces. As scared as I am to cycle, I also can't wait. I pray about it every night and I pray for our child, that he or she will always know just how much C and I wanted, longed and ached for them. I pray they always know how much we love them because we already do and always will. We love a baby that doesn't exist yet, kinda crazy but totally true.