Sick of it

It's just one of the days when this is all too much. I can't fathom that I won't experience a pregnancy. That I won't ever, ever, ever have that. That I won't have the excitement of telling my husband, of going to ob appointments, or of deciding if we want to know the gender. That I won't have kids that look like me. That I won't know what it's like to give birth. People won't come see me and my newborn in the hospital. I won't breast feed. The reality of it makes me want to puke.

I can't do this. I can't stand being constantly bombarded by other people's happiness. And normalcy. I can't stand the 352 times a day I come across photos of other people's children, pregnancy announcements, birth announcements, or their talk of how great, or how hard, motherhood is.

No matter what prayers I say, no matter what treatments I try, no matter how I chart, it's not happening. Five years without even a miscarriage. I'd be a fool to think that after all this time I'm just going to wind up pregnant one day. If I did, it would be a miracle and would probably go down in blog folklore. I am not the type of person that stuff like that happens to.

I am SO sick of holding back tears all day every day. I am so sick of ruining my make-up.

I have no option. I will have to live in a world full of fertile people for however long God wills. I don't think this will ever get any easier.