A Bout of Melancholy...

Disclaimer:

The purpose of the following post is not to attract attention or sympathy...it's merely a method for which I can release disturbing thoughts.

I'm in love with life.

But sometimes...I allow myself to feel sorry for...well...myself.

Many of my pregnant friends will be having their babies in the coming months.

Others already have.

A cousin just celebrated her baby's first birthday.

Another cousin's baby's birthday isn't far behind.

All of our nephews continue to grow handsome and strong.

I'll be stepping in on a project for a co-worker that will be out on maternity leave soon.

I'm completely surrounded by pregnancies or new/young life...and that's OK 80% of the time....

but the other 20% is just...depressing.

And I have nobody to blame but myself.

It's funny.....that's essentially what my best friend said to me before we severed ties with one another. She told me my husband and I were just making excuses. That if I really wanted a child I would have had one by now. Our falling out stems from bigger issues than that but that statement served as the catalyst.

And now, many months later, I realize she was right...

it's my own fault I don't yet have children.

I haven't explored every possible avenue and have only sought minimal professional assistance. And that's not because of the fact that I'm terrified of what we'll find out or that seeking professional help is costly...it's because I'm still clinging to this ridiculous thing called hope. Hope that we will have children naturally.

I feel stupid for saying that after 4 years of trying.

Dear friends of ours didn't wait 4 years when they realized they couldn't naturally conceive. They researched, they planned, they saved and they got pregnant within a year.

Other dear friends of ours also took that route.

So why is this such an obstacle for me?

Why is this such an obstacle for my husband?

Why can't I let go of my hope when it has failed me every month for the past several years?