But I'm not.
My due date for my lost pregnancy was November 3rd. I know so many people that will be delivering right around that time. I can count six just off the top of my head and I'm pretty sure there are more. If you're one of these people I really am happy for you, really and truly. It's just hard to see my friends growing bellies and knowing there's a fresh new baby inside of them waiting to see the world. And knowing that should also be me.
It's hard. It's been about six months since I miscarried and we haven't been able to get pregnant since. Plus, now it's looking like we'll have to postpone the baby making so I can get a job while Cory finishes school. That's a hard realization to face when all I want to do is be a mother.
I'm sorry for being a whiner. It's just how I feel...most of the time. I'm getting better at controlling these emotions but they're always there, lingering under the surface. I don't know why I felt the need to share this with the blogging world again, but I did and I am.
I talked to my mom this morning about this. When I talk to my mom I always regress just a little bit and I complained about how it just isn't fair. She wisely told me that of course it isn't fair. We understood that before we came here. We knew life would be hard and that things wouldn't always work out the way we want them too, but we chose this anyway. Deep down I know this. I know that life is meant to be full of trials and that we are supposed to grow from them. I just wish this trial wasn't mine. I know I'm strong enough to handle it and that I'll learn something from it (and if I'm being perfectly honest with myself, I've known most of my life I was going to struggle with this), but I still don't want it.
Whew, okay. I'm done. Please forgive me. Happy things next time, I promise.